Fatal Attraction
by Her.Vanilla.Majesty
Summary: —It was all a game, one they had both mastered and perfected in their early days. Their pawns were positioned, scattered on tiles of black and white. The stakes were high, but such was expected when dealing with matters of the heart. Especially theirs.—
1. Chapter 1

**_A Note from the Desk of Her. Vanilla .Majesty..._**

_Re-edited intro..._

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda.**

* * *

**The Beginning**

It was by fate that he was born unto the service of the Calatians—a nation torn between corruption and forgotten morals. It was by chance that he had come to the world under a silvery moon and starless sky, crying for the warmth of a dying mother who could only whisper her last words to the gods above for his safety. It was by luck that his looks were far more desirable than any could have ever dreamed—all blue eyes and welcoming smiles. It was by the whims of love that his allure would be the one to charm it's way into the Princess' frozen heart and bring about the downfall of Hyrule.

This was the story of Link Avignon.

**.**

He was penniless by nature. But his parents would decline that fact everyday. They claim that they had found him lying in the forever youngs' forest—the Kokiri, swaddled in exorbitant blue silk and wearing a silver chained medallion of an exquisite nobility insignia. They say that he held it tightly in his tiny fists when they first found him, cries muffled by heavy leaves and tall stems of grass.

It was a triangular shaped pendant, encased in fine glowing silver, yet it had shone like gold. He was ashamed of it in his own way; stating the noble sign in such a poor lovely town that had served to be his only home seemed somewhat cruel. Most of the townspeople were not fond of the lowlanders; it was the pride of the Royal Family that ceased their healthy trades and commerce. Within a few short months, money was scarce and people found last refuge in the streets, grimy hands cupped together, begging for enough silver to fill their aching stomachs for the night.

Their family was a lucky exception. In fact, his whole life was quite lucky. His mother was well and healthy, father prospering from trading horses with the affluent Romani Ranch of Termina. Their house was humble and inferior to those of the stately manors, but shelter was rare he learned to be thankful for the small things that had kept him warm in the frosty winter nights.

He never did take off that pendant, though. he couldn't bring himself to. It hung low in his chest every single day, either out and glittering, or stuffed inside his modest clothes, pressing against his skin as he worked away the day in the fields.

It was in his fourteenth birthday that his luck had finally ran out, sapped to its limits—but who knew the supply was so short? Mother had fallen victim to the Dark Plague and died shortly after being infected with the horrendous disease. Her last day was uneventful and dull, full of aches and pain that he could not heal as he watched the light from her eyes dissolve to nothing. His father, stricken with grief and desperation knowing that he could no longer support his son, sent him off to the Calatian Court in hopes that they would take in his son's hidden noble blood in consideration and provide an education and future.

And they had. Yet instead of handing him a quill and paper, he was presented in front of a stone-faced man who thrust a sword into his trembling, inexperienced hands. His fingers closed around the hilt, the vibration of steel and raw power thrumming to his wrist and filling him with something foreign and inexplicably new. Something that felt as if it had always been there with him, waiting for the call.

**Courage.**

The first years were about discipline and mastery of swordplay. He excelled in ways even he could not believe and made his way through the ranks with dizzying speed. He was the youngest to graduate and earn his armor.

Then he was put on sale after wearing out his use; a display for all interested buyers: to take in a poor, handsome young man and care for him. The orphanage was a horrible place, and his nights were filled with yearning to return to the barracks and feel the thrum of courage surge through his veins again. The beds were hard and blankets dirty. The water always ran low and it seemed every month a child would die from neglect.

Link learned to care for himself. His friend Saria would always play with him out in the forests nearby to escape the daily troubles of the orphanage. But, then of course, someone had taken an interest and adopted her, stealing away the only dash of color in his black-and-white world.

It was nearly another year until a special visitor came along, like an unexpected storm. He sported a dark greenish color with red hair and angry golden eyes. His face was brutal and marred with scars from battle, and once his eyes found Link a wicked grin came to his face, dark and cunning. The people were glad to give him away; Link had always been something of a troublemaker despite his pleasant features.

**.**

The man was known as the King of Gerudos, and Link was to be his prodigy. A Hylian to infiltrate Hyrule and conquer it for his master.

He spent endless hours training himself in their way of fighting; his hand grew rough and attached to the hilt of their exotic scimitars in no time. The Gerudos were a war-like tribe, the population composed solely of women—save for the King himself, but he found it easy to associate amongst them. Eventually, he grew accustomed to their excessive flirting and sly winks. Yet the desert was hot enough without their scorching skin and heated glances, golden eyes blazing with the utmost confidence as they strutted through hot torrents of sand with lithe, battle-scared bodies that spoke countless tales of victory.

He was the only prey in a pack of predators, and that was how he saw them.

Nabooru had proven herself different at their fist meeting by putting a well-intended scar across his right cheek. The others were horrified, but she seemed pleased at his apparent shock. The Gerudo King took a liking to her immediately and appointed them to his high council, knowing their skills would be near unmatchable in the battlefield.

**..**

He was nearing his seventeenth year when Altea invaded Gerudo Desert, seeing as how the Hylians discarded the land from their alliance. He fought with all the skill he could muster, but they were drastically outnumbered. Link did not die a horrible death in the burning sand though; the armed knight he had fought his last battle against was apparently the King himself.

Glancing at the young man that fell before his blade, bleeding and wounded, the King grinned viciously.

"A Hylian in foreign soil? How very interesting."

Needless to say, His Majesty was most impressed with the swordsman and took him captive as a spoil of war. He was taken under Altea's Castle to train Prince Marth on the art of the sword.

**..**

The two grew to be the best of friend after years of roaming the wild countryside of Altea and wooing girls to the palace dances held annually.

Marth often mock-bragged about his colorful history with duchesses and pompous city girls, much to Link's infinite amusement and the King's disappointment.

Link himself had never wanted to showcase his charm with women. He found it to be a talent best kept under wraps - and it had been. For a while.

He was flirting with a maid, and he was reckless about it at the time. Of course, she was pretty, nothing more. His horse had more brains and common sense. It was only by sheer coincidence that the King happened to run into their conversation, noting Link's never-ending supply of sly phrases and flattering compliments with what could only be described as awe.

**.**

Link was unprepared, safe to say.

The Captain, a grim-faced man with coals for eyes, had taken him so abruptly from the training grounds, and none too gently, muttering under his breath that the King had requested his immediate presence at the Throne Room.

Normally, protocol stated that knights - especially one of his stature - would have to be presentable in order to hold audience with the King. He guessed that whatever the King had called to him for would be urgent. So urgent that he would not have minded - even tolerated - the sight of a breathless young man, fresh from a good warm-up fight and reeking of adrenaline.

He was not wrong.

**.**

The Throne room was a grand display of wealth and power, from the tiled ivory floors to the stained mosaic walls that hung below the arched ceilings. Columns sculpted to the liking of the frivolous courtiers lined the carpeted path to the stage where the Royals sat. Link felt his stomach twist violently as he fell to a bow.

"My King." He nodded to a large, boisterous-looking man sitting comfortably on a large throne moulded from imperial gold. "You have summoned me?"

The Prince of Altea sat beside his father, a fine silver scabbard on his hip and a thin circlet around his head, handsome features scrunching in disataste as he watched his father let out a booming laugh.

"You have a gift, my boy," the King commented proudly, perched on his fat throne and looking as big as ever. His belly protruded underneath the rich clothes he wore, bursting over the leather belt closing around his hip. "A gift I know you've been hiding."

"Sir?" Link asked, raising a brow in confusion. He was aware of the sweat that lingered on his forehead, making his hair plaster to the sides of his face in damp strips of gold.

"Oh, you need not explain yourself," the King went on, waving away the puzzled question that hung between them, leaving it thoroughly unanswered. "I just find that your talents may be of great use to our kingdom. Much more than waving those swords of yours, anyway."

Prince Marth looked thoroughly bored at the impropmtu meeting and made a point of showing it. "Can you get to the point, Father?"

A look of mild annoyance crossed the King's features and he snapped with a glower, "Quiet, boy. You'd do yourself good to listen to this."

Marth snorted and fiddled with the hem of his velvet cloak, muttering under his breath - unfazed by the cross glare his father sent his way. His eyes briefly passed over Link, glazed with a thinly veiled look of distrust and suspicion - two main factors that led to the divide of their friendship.

The King turned to Link with a smile - a stark contrast to Marth's icy look. The smile itself was not warm or friendly. It was knowing.

The Knight straightened his posture, the joint of his armor letting out muffled clanks as steel hit steel.

"Link, have you heard of Hyrule?"

Marth sat up suddenly, eyes wide, as if he had been struck by lightning. Not a pleasant feeling, Link would know. "What in the world?" Alarm burst in his blue eyes and he clenched his teeth, nearly grinding out the word, "Father-"

The King raised up his hand to silence him and Link felt himself nod - feeling odd and slightly distanced, as if he had been dropped down to a new world. "Yes; it is s a neighboring kingdom near Termina."

"Yes." The King touched his bushy eyebrow with a gold-ringed finger, smiling to himself almost dreamily. "A very prosperous nation. And now do tell me, have you heard of the Princess?"

"Princess?" Link repeated, interest piqued, though he hid it by shuffling his feet. He had seen many princess in his time. Many often came to Altea, vying for the Prince's hand - though Marth often shooed them away at first glance. Link would have gladly taken his pick if it hadn't been for the fact that they were nearly unreachable, even for him. He settled for the ladies of the court that often came by, a fickle yet alluring bunch, he knew.

"Father!" Marth cried, something much like thinly disguised horror reaching his voice.

"Shut your mouth, boy!" the King glowered at his son once more. "You should not meddle with my affairs!"

"Father please…" Marth tried again, meek as a mouse in the face of the King's impending wrath. Link watched them bicker with a growing unease.

"Her name is Zelda. She is about to turn eighteen and will soon be eligible for marriage." The King clasped his hands together and grinned at him, turning away from his son. Marth wore an expression of utter distress, dropping his head into his hands, mortified.

Link frowned. "Okay…"

"Aren't you about to turn eighteen as well, Link?" The King hinted, weaving his hands together under his chin.

"I already did. Two months ago, your Highness." He was baffled at the sudden turn of the conversation, head reeling as he struggled to keep up. He failed to see why any Princess - whether from Hyrule or some other kingdom - would be any of his concern.

"Ah," the King leaned back in his throne looking thoughtful, "why have you never told us? We could have celebrated it."

"I did not want to concern you with such trivial matters, My King."

"Trivial?" the King scoffed and waved a hand in front of him. "You are like a son to me, Link."

"Father…" Marth fidgeted in his throne, looking highly anxious.

Link was not used to such compliments from the King and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Err…"

"Back to the matter at hand, Princess Zelda, yes? We met with her about six years ago. Marth here-" he made an elaborate gesture to his son who blushed on the spot- "was smitten, to say."

Link simply blinked.

A smirk came to the King's face then, mocking and callous. "Wouldn't stop talking about her for a week. You know well, I encourage Marth to pursue study and training instead of-" the King's face scrunched, "-love. But as you've said, Hyrule is a vast, rich country. And it would do well for Altea to form an alliance with them, don't you think?"

"Altea is big enough to stay independent," Link said in reply, hoping to please the King.

The King raised a brow then let out a short laugh. "You are right, boy! But the Hylians can pose a serous threat in terms of war. Their alliances have made them near invincible."

"So you wish for Marth to court the princess?"

"Not quite." The King pursed his lips, looking as if the mere thought amused him.

Marth sneered, interrupting. "Love is not something you assert control over, _Father_."

The King sat up straighter in his throne, mouth curled to a snarl. "You will listen to me as your king. You will never insult my power. Or so help me I will throw you to the dungeons personally." The blue-haired prince flinched at the angry words. His father continued, ruthless, "You have had your chance, Marth. She does not love you, we both know that."

Marth's eyes flared, and his jaw locked. "I..." he trailed off, pressinghis lips together as color rushed from his cheeks.

The King turned back to the knight with a strained smile. Marth's face was red and his eyes glittered furiously as his father wheedled on to Link, "You see, my dear knight, Princess Zelda is not only beautiful, but cold-hearted."

Link blinked and stammered. "But why…"

The King interrupted, holding up a jewel-adorned hand imperiously. "Let me finish. Every suitor of hers is tragically turned down. She plans on ruling Hyrule alone, you know." He barked out a harsh chuckle, glancing up at the ceiling as if sharing the humor with the gods above. "Can you imagine? A woman playing a king's job? It would lead to only disorder and chaos. Ruling is a man's job." Link snapped his mouth shut and only nodded. "So Link, I believe it's time for you to repay your debt to Altea."

The knight's jaw dropped open. Debt? Did he have to pay for all his expenses? "Pardon me, sir. I don't quite understand how this all makes sense."

"Link." The King looked him in the eye, voice grave - a tone he had not ever used since the beginning of their conversation. "I am adopting you as my son. As a Prince of Altea."

"You cannot be serious." Marth's eyes narrowed, his teeth clenched.

"Oh, but I am. I am trusting you with the biggest mission of your life, Link." The soldier looked down and felt the air run from his lungs in a mixed rush of dread and excitement at the next words the King spoke.

"I want you to win Princess Zelda's heart. And when the time comes…_crush it."_

* * *

"I will stop you. No matter what it takes, I will stop you."

Link sighed as he tugged on the collar of the expensive blue tunic he wore. Marth glowered behind him, arms crossed and face contorted into a permanent scowl. The banquet was beginning but neither brothers were in a festive enough mood to bask in the aroma of food and thrum of musoc. The tension between them grew when he replied curtly, "I am just following orders."

Marth glared at him with disbelief and disgust. "Following orders? I know you, Link. You will take great enjoyment in your little assignment."

"You know I am not that heartless, Marth." He rolled his wandering eyes. The chandeliers high on the ceiling swayed, diamonds sparkling their reflections down on them. The tables were being slowly filled with duchesses and nobles of every kind. Plently of pretty maidens sat on the front table, giggling and pointing at him. Link smirked, taking pride in the fact that the crown on his head gave him full permission to wave at them.

He sensed Marth's anger grow and shrugged carelessly, enjoying the new feel of his throne. The prince's heated glare drilled into the back of his head persistently. He sighed. "Don't you want revenge, anyway? This Zelda girl broke your heart. She broke plenty of hearts. Methinks she needs to learn a little lesson about compassion."

"No," Marth snapped, his harsh tone punctuating the air around them, rapidly defusing the joy of the room. "_You_ do. You do not wish revenge on the one you love, Link. But what would you know about that?"

Link feigned hurt and turned to him with a highly insulted look, though Marth could easily tell it was as fake as the gentleman act his 'brother' had used to trick countless women into his arms. "I have my experiences with love as well, Marth."

"Love?" he snorted. "You never did love any of the girls you courted, Link. They were just distractions for you. Pets."

"Not true," he retorted coolly. "What about that ranch girl Siria?"

"Amanda," his brother corrected.

"Yes, yes, _her_." Link shook his head in exasperation. "I loved her, Marth. I gave her flowers and roses everyday."

"Yes, and she gave you her horse Stavillan…then you left."

"It was a long-distance relationship. It was reasonable." Link explained with practiced patience. "It was best for both of us to just head our separate ways."

"She's three miles away from us! You don't even ride Stavillan nowadays! He's been locked up in the stables for nearly a year now!"

Link threw up his hands and made a quick flick of the wrist as if to shoo away the topic. "It wouldn't have worked anyway!"

Marth felt his impatience swell in his chest and he growled under his breath, darkly. "I am warning you, Link. If you break her heart I will forget we were ever friends and stab a sword through yours."

Link heard the seriousness asserted in his voice and his nerves steeled instantly. "And I am warning _you,_ Marth. If you stand in my way I will forget that we are now brothers and make sure you die a painful death fit for a traitor. I have sworn myself to the King's orders and I will _not_ fail."

Marth leaned back and muttered bitterly. "You are better than this, Link."

"I was," Link replied offhandedly as he reverted his attention to the giggling maidens. They hid behind their fans, coquettishly batting their long lashes. He smiled, "I was, wasn't I?"

* * *

"You look lovely today, Princess."

She sighed wearily and watched the sunrise with visible boredom. Rays of light spilled over the hedges of the Royal Garden, though the scene seemed less beautiful after enduring several hours with her stubborn suitor. "Thank you, Lord Travall."

The boy beside her shifted nervously as he tried to conjure new compliments, his hands reaching up to pat the air around her head, as if her admiration were something tangible and he was desperately trying to get a hold of it. "Your…hair looks…" he searched for the word in his mind. Zelda sighed again, impatient to get their _date - _the word still had the uncanny ability to make her gag - over with.

"Bright," he decided with a light blush.

"Really?" she asked, not even bothering to feign interest. Her fingers absently twiddled with the stray golden locks that had escaped from her neat braid.

"Y-yes," Travall stuttered, when she shifted her gaze to him. "Like...the sun."

"Thank you." Zelda nodded, inwardly groaning. Travall had spent most of their time trying to 'woo' her with his outlandish compliments. And to fill in for the rest of the hours when his mind drew a blank, he reverted back to the 'riveting' political topics often brought up in her father's Court meetings.

"Did you know that my family helped establish the Righteous Code of Man in Ramalia?" Travall said, fidgeting with his fingers nervously, as if reading her mind. "It was the first-"

"System of proper governing, I know," the princess cut in rolling her sapphire eyes. "You've told me before."

"Er, right." Travall let out a feeble laugh, busying his fingers by threading them through the dark tangles of his hair.

"We really ought to be heading inside, Lord Travall," Zelda suggested, batting her eyes his way when his mouth opened to protest. "I'd hate for the sun to mark my skin."

"Oh, but..."

"Come along." She stood, brushing off the bits of grass that clung to her skirts hastily. Perhaps, once they were inside, Travall could entertain the giggling maids back in the castle instead. They had all crowded around Zelda on the first day of his visit, remarking on how handsome his features were and how enviously lucky she was to have him vying for her hand.

"Wait." A hand settled on her upper arm and she stiffened all over.

"Yes?" she asked, swallowing the bile rising to her throat at the contact.

Travall's eyes flitted from her arm, to her chest, and fixed on her lips. His mouth parted. "I..."

"Lord Travall, are you-"

She was cut off as he swooped down, his mouth missing hers by a mere inch. She yelped, forcing him back with a quick shove to the chest. He stumbled to regain footing, his eyes dark with desire as they hungrily glared at her. "Please, just a goodbye kiss-"

"No." Zelda surprised even herself with how cold-sounding her voice seemed. "Lord Travall, I suggest you leave today. Before I tell my father of how you nearly assaulted me with-"

"Assaulted?" Travall laughed, standing tall as his confidence returned. "Princess, be reasonable. Women all over Ramalia would die for me to want them as much as I want you. Don't be foolish."

"Leave." Zelda's eyes glittered, hard as flint and sparking with anger. "Leave now before I hurt you."

"I'd like to see you try," Travall muttered in a somewhat brazen manner as he stepped closer to her with a wicked grin.

There was a flash of white from Zelda's grin, then a blur followed as her fist made contact with his throat, making him gasp for air.

Another hour passed before Lord Travall finally left, bitter and resentful as he was hauled to his carriage in a full-body cast.

* * *

The King of Hyrule spent more time in his study than anywhere else in the castle.

Something about the mahogany wood below his feet, the smell of burning wood from the hearth, the scratch of pen on paper soothed him in a way that nothing - not even the exquisite food from the kitchens - could. Now, however, the refuge he once found in the place was slowly dissolving, replaced by frustration and endless nights where sleep proved to be far too elusive.

"You wished to speak to me Father?"

Daphnes looked up from the pile of paperwork he had been slaving over since the crack of dawn and sighed wearily, rubbing his forehead. His daughter seated herself before him, smiling patiently. Her golden hair was plaited with roses and ribbons, not a strand out of place. She looked so heartbreakingly innocent, yet he was not fooled.

"What did you do to Lord Travall?"

She scowled, expression darkening instantaneously as the smile fell from her lips. "I think you mean, what he did to me."

"Zelda…" he began warningly. The quill in his hands snapped in two and he tossed it away in a show of disappointment, reaching for another and dipping it carefully in ink.

His daughter stood suddenly, her scalloped sleeves flaring out as she waved her hands. "He was breaking protocol! He would have attacked me had I not defended myself!"

"Was it really necessary to break all his ribs?"

"He will heal. Most of the damage was taken by his ego," Zelda scoffed, mouth pursed.

"You do not understand Zelda."

"I understand perfectly well, Father. I understand that you are trying to marry me off to these shallow, conceited nobles with no regards to my feelings!" Her eyes blazed with a familiar fury. He sighed.

_Dear Goddesses, not so early in the morn..._

"Zelda hear me out now…" Her father began before trailing off, knowing it was futile since she'd interrupt him mid-sentence anyway.

"No! _You_ hear me out," Zelda cut in with a glare, just as he had expected. "I can rule this land alone, Father! I can be a sovereign. I am a better candidate for the throne than any of them!"

"Boys were made to be kings, girls were made to be queens."

"Since when? Our religion is based on goddesses."

"That is different," Daphnes grumbled under his breath. "And you will learn to accept it soon Zelda, trust me."

"Trust?" She snorted, but Daphnes knew better than to scold her. Zelda was stubborn. She would not behave with etiquette unless in front of her own people. "How can I when you do not trust me with my decisions?"

"You are far too young to understand such complex matters," Daphnes said in his most delicate tone knowing that even the slightest hint of hesitance in his tone would tarnish the effect of calming her.

Zelda's impatience reached its peak and she collapsed back on her chair in a defeated manner. "I am seventeen, Father."

"Not eighteen. Therefore not yet an adult," he finished firmly with a set glare. He turned down at his quill, flecking strands of ink onto the polished surface of his desk.

She opened her mouth then closed it, huffing a little. "_Unbelievable_."

"The Alteans are coming for a visit tomorrow."

"I've already met Marth. My refusal was firm. It still is."

"You were twelve then, Zelda."

"So?"

The King smiled softly and shook his head at his daughter. "I invited them. To celebrate the new prince."

Zelda looked taken aback and horrified. "Another one? I thought the Queen had long died!"

"She did. The prince was adopted."

"Those Alteans…" Zelda muttered under her breath, crossing her arms and shifting her gaze out the windows thoughtfully. "Probably wanted a second suitor to up their chances."

"Zelda…"

She inclined her head forward - the only form of apology she would ever give.

"This new prince happened to be a knight under their service."

"Ah, another knight in shining armor? How original."

"Zelda…"

She inclined her head again. He sighed.

"And the Zoras will be coming over as well."

"Those fishes?" She asked, gripping her the armrests in indignation.

"_Zoras_, Zelda. You know, Prince Ralis and Ruto."

The princesses' nose scrunched at the name. "Ruto?" Her tone was heavy with distaste as she recounted her cousin's somewhat eccentric tendencies. "_Lovely._"

Her father picked up a quill and began tirelessly shuffling through the several laws and amendments before him.

A pause followed, the only sound being the scratch of ink on paper. Light seeped into the room, making the deep lines of his face more pronounced as he rubbed his brow in frustration, eyes reading diligently through the fancy script of letters.

"So?" Zelda leaned back on her heels, trying to seem interested for the sake of her obviously fatigue-stricken father. She knew the Councilmembers - an elite group of aspiring oligarchs - were not easy to deal with. They were testy old men with archaic minds and fickle tastes. "What is his name?"

Daphnes looked up at her, a twinkle in his old eyes. "His name is..."

* * *

"Link!"

The maiden giggled and her cheeks burned a shameful red, turning on her heels to give him a shy wave. The prince winked at her before continuing his stroll through the gardens, the late afternoon light taking residence in his hair, making it burn a sunset-yellow hue. Rauru beside him rolled his eyes.

_Youngsters._

He had yet to meet any who was more cunning and devious than the new prince.

"Are you paying any attention at all, Link?" he grumbled.

Link looked back at him and smiled innocently. "Of course," he replied half-heartedly.

Rauru snorted, doubtful and not in the least taken by his charm. "Then repeat what I just said."

The smile stayed in place. "Hyrule was a vast kingdom that stretched from nearly twelve thousand years ago when the goddesses created it. It was found by the First Princess Zelda who formerly used to be a pirate, searching the seas for a new lands, one would soon flourish to the kingdom it is today," he finished with a triumphant grin, bowing modestly. "Continue, please."

Rauru scowled at his student and inwardly cursed his smoothness (for he himself had none). "Honestly, Link. It would do you some good if you'd let me humiliate you once in a while."

Link chuckled and surreptitiously winked at a female gardener who was so surprised she tripped over her shovel and sprawled on the dirt with a silent yelp. He started for her when Rauru held him back with his arm. "Stop distracting the castle staff and focus."

Link sighed and tuned back to Rauru with his hand up. "Sorry, it's just that…" he trailed off and looked down at his boot and mumbled something incoherent.

Rauru frowned and leaned forward a bit. "Sorry, what?"

Link mumbled something again.

"Pardon?"

Link spoke even softer.

"Speak up!" Rauru grinned goofily and Link's head jerked upwards, eyes flashing.

"I'm nervous, okay!"

Rauru's jaw dropped. "You…_nervous_?"

Link wasn't one to be nervous - the word was as alien to him as fun was to Rauru. He was bold, his manners all flair and charm, and he exuded enough self-possession to rival even the most powerful of lords. But now he seemed to have taken on an entirely new identity with his shifty eyes and pallid cheeks.

"Link?" Rauru, who was quite sure the end of the world was at hand, asked uncertainly.

The young man exploded, all composure draining away, and paced before the amused old man. "I'm nervous, okay?" he repeated in agitation. "I've never been to Hyrule! I don't know fine dining and all that! Heck, I've lived my whole life without the need to use a fork at all! How am I supposed to make a good impression?"

Rauru chuckled. "Link…"

"And the Princess! Oh gods, the _princess _Rauru! What if she throws me in the dungeons? I'm too _attractive _to rot in jail!"

"Link…."

"And the clothes! Don't even get me started on the fashion statements around here! It's ridiculous! I mean-"

"LINK!" the old man yelled.

"Eh?" Link stopped in the middle of his rant and faced him, eyes glazed and unfocused. "What?" he whipped his head to the side, then back again. "What?"

"Calm down, boy! Honestly, you young people today. Always making a big fuss over every little thing-"

"I am meeting the Hylian Royal Family, old man!"

"Don't start! And if you really want to impress, you need to listen to my teachings."

Link rolled his eyes and stopped, snatching up the scroll Rauru had just been reading out loud. "Hey!"

His student tucked it safely in his hands and smirked a little, his arrogant countenance returning. "It might be good if I study alone. Heaven knows there's nothing more boring than an old man droning on about history."

**.**

Marth peeked from the greenery and took a moment to step out of his hiding, scowling bitterly.

"Stupid Link…"

He trudged ahead with clenched fists and watched as his brother strode away, eyes glued to the parchment he held, a smirk quirking his lips as he rolled it together, causing Rauru to balk in protest.

The gardener had groaned slightly as she rubbed her forehead, the petal before her splayed messily. Marth stepped up behind her and she immediately froze when he spoke.

"Take my hand."

She whirled around, mud splattering on his riding boots at the movement, and her jaw dropped.

"Prince Marth! A thousand apologies, highness, I didn't mean for…" She bent over and tried to wipe away the stain.

The mud smeared with each swipe and she jerked back in alarm, fidgeting. "Sorry!"

He chuckled, bad mood disappearing.

He outstretched his hand and she looked at it hesitantly, then up at him through the rim of her straw hat. A tinge of pink came to her cheeks as she took it and he pulled her up with a small grunt. She dusted off and smiled shyly. "Thank you."

He realized with a start that she was quite pretty, with sheepish green eyes and a bright smile. Her hair was quite ratty at edges and long as it frizzed down her back in brown waves. "A pleasure. Please excuse my brother, he can be troublesome."

"Prince Link?" Her pink cheeks turned red instantly and she bit her lip. "Oh, it's fine. I never…"

He looked at her, a bit amused at the effect his brother had on girls. He smiled and she turned even redder, glancing down at her feet. "Please excuse my clumsiness. Your father will not be pleased to hear that I've destroyed an entire flowerbed."

Marth laughed and patted her shoulder, a flush coloring her cheeks at the unexpected contact. "I can't exactly say it'll matter much. My father cares little for plants."

"And your riding boots? I've ruined them and I'm afraid I cannot pay you back."

Their eyes met. "Well with the salary my father gives you, it's not entirely a shock."

She laughed suddenly and he smiled at the sound, taken aback by the flash of her teeth through pursed lips. It was simple, he knew; Zelda's was like music in comparison. But it was so carefree that he found himself liking it immensely.

"It's fine," he assured her again, eyes warm. "They were so shiny at first I could barely look at them. The mud is a nice touch."

They laughed together and his eyes twinkled. "What is your name?"

She looked at him surprised, and turned pink once more. "Diaselle."

Marth rose a brow. "Diaselle." He tasted the name, rolling it around in his head, then smirked. "Interesting name for such a pretty girl."

She smiled back. "You are much like your brother, Prince. I never knew 'till now."

"How so?"

"You talk in a way that can make any lady swoon."

He chuckled again, trying to ignore how his heart leapt at the compliment. Maybe...maybe he did have a chance. "I'm afraid that is my brother's department."

"I know one thing that you specialize at though."

"Which is…?"

She blushed and looked down again. "Chivalry."

Silence entered before he found himself saying. "I like you Diaselle."

She glanced at him in shock and stammered. "P-p-pardon?"

He smiled even wider. "It was nice meeting you, truly. I needed a laugh." She blushed and he winked, unable to help himself.

_Looks like Link's rubbed off on me..._

"I have a feeling we'll get along quite well."


	2. Chapter 2

_**(Re-edited)**_

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda.**

* * *

**2**

Princess Zelda had been woken up in the worst way possible, which, of course wasn't saying much seeing as how she had always been woken up in the best way possible. She fell off her bed, a clumsy action that resulted in a broken nose. So barely at the peek of dawn she was down in the infirmary nursing a roughly bandaged scar.

Her father scolded her severely for getting such an 'unbecoming blemish' in the worst possible day she could have afforded to be klutz. In the very least, the Princess could only hope that Marth would like her less for her sudden lack of grace, and hopefully at the same time drive away the knight prince she'd heard about.

After her visit to the nurse, she made a beeline straight for the lower chambers in the castle, knowing fully well she needed more dirt on her latest victim. And where else better to find such useful information than the maids themselves?

Their quarters were dull colored with simple furnishings - not even comparable to her own bedroom, but the atmosphere had turned suspiciously lively once she stepped foot inside. The maids swarmed over her in giddy flocks, complimenting her hair and saying cheery greetings with adoring eyes.

Of course, once she mentioned Link's name a quick hush befell on them and the maids turned red simultaneously, even the older women who glanced away in an almost sheepish manner. "Surely you have seen him, Princess?" asked a young, mousy girl.

"Nay, I have not." Zelda shook her head, golden hair spilling down her shoulders as an elderly woman ushered to a wicker chair.

A maid squealed from one of the corners, quite suddenly, and she rushed forward with a beam. "I hear his eyes are the most beautiful green!"

"Are they?"

"Nonsense! They are a mysterious black!" A woman cried from her bed, lips pulled to a knowing tilt.

"Lies, they are blue!" Another yelled back.

"Shows what you know! It's red!"

"He is not a Sheikah, Annie!" Another girl sighed in exasperation. "We've been through this before."

In what seemed to be a mere blink of an eye, chaos overtook the conversation, with the girls shouting ridiculous proclamations at the top of their lungs while others denied them profusely. The Princess watched calmly, hands folded before her lap in a dainty manner.

A young servant walked - nay, _sashayed _- up to her, smile set in place as she outstretched her hand. Zelda saw her skin was several shades darker than her own, bordering on a dark bronze-ish color, like the sands of a desert. Quickly, her gaze flew to the girl's eyes, and she was startled to find them colored an exotic-looking hue of gold. They stared back at her, rather balefully. "I won't bite," the girl said, in what seemed to be a mocking tone.

Zelda frowned at her lack of formality and simply crossed her arms, not liking how confident and brash the young woman seemed.

The maid looked slightly amused as she lowered her hands and smiled. "I have met him before, Princess. Not like the lot of these mindless fools." She whispered harshly, as if afraid someone would overhear their conversation. There was a hint of mischeif in the girl's voice and a smug look was plastered vaguely on her face. A bit of suspicion mixed with distrust gnawed on the Princess' gut.

"Really now?" Zelda felt a smile curl on her lips as she entertained the thought. A prince meet with a maid? What were the chances, really?

The girl pursed her lips, a secret twinkle in her eyes. "You do not believe me."

Zelda shook her head in mock sadness, tapping her chin in a fake pensive manner. "My, you're quite observant."

The girl grinned and Zelda's irritation grew for some reason. This lowly servant was barely acknowledging her royalty; and she found that she did not like it one bit.

"His eyes are blue, his hair is gold. His name is Link." The maid leaned forward, as if sharing a valuable piece of information. "And believe me when I say…he is nothing but trouble."

Zelda stepped back and crossed her arms, eager to put some distance between them. She stood, disappointed to find that they were of the same height. "As if I hadn't known that."

The maid rolled her eyes and Zelda scowled, her tone implying hints of vexation. "And how would you know him anyway?"

The maid lifted a brow and pursed her lips cautiously before parting them again. "I met him. In another life. When he was a different man."

* * *

Link watched the landscape of Altea pass by in its agonizingly sluggish manner and groaned loudly, laying his head back on the cushions that pillowed his neck. The carriage he rode on rumbled and swayed. He tapped his fingers impatiently on the windowsill, eyes shifting restlessly. The King who sat before him smirked. "My, aren't we a bit grumpy today?"

"Apologies," Link sighed, running a hand messily through his hair. "It's just that we've been riding for hours."

"My boy, this is _luxury_ travel. It would do you good to appreciate it."

"I guess." Link glanced out the window with a sulky expression and the King folded his hands together. The new duchess sat by him, smiling prettily. Her hair was in satin ribbons and her black eyes stared off aimlessly at the blond prince, shameless as they roved over his every feature.

The King took note of it and cleared his throat gruffly. The duchess paled and her eyes quickly fell to the floor. "Maybe we should revise our plan to pass the time."

"As you wish." Link looked to his commander dutifully and the King shook his head.

"Practice addressing me as a father, not a king. The Princess is quite perceptive."

The duchess traced small circles on the floor with her heels and hummed a song softly. Link leaned back on the cushioned red couch as the King continued, "We will need the alliance signed very soon, so your time is limited."

"No problem." Link surreptitiously checked his nails, pleased to see the lack of grit. It made for a refreshing change, not being covered in sweat and dingy clothing.

"Atta boy!" The King clapped his hands together in delight, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Next thing you know, you'll be up there in that altar, with the people groveling at your feet."

Link swallowed at the thought, a bit unnerved at the prospect of commitment. As if sensing his unease, the King clicked his tongue, reprimanding. "The plan is in motion, Link. There's no stopping now."

"I was aware of this."

The King smiled easily. "Good, good." He turned to the duchess who fixed her eyes away determinedly. "My dear, thank you for joining me here."

"Marth did not appreciate my presence in the cart, so I had to ride here," she answered stiffly.

"Ah," the King grinned at her, though it was fleeting and agitated. "Forgive my son, he will take a liking to you in due time, trust me."

"Good. My parents are expecting very high things for me, but it he refuses my hand we will not look back."

A look of uncertainty flashed in the King's eyes and he chuckled nervously. "Perhaps… I should go talk to him, dear?"

The duchess sniffed and held her nose high with the same air of arrogance every noblewoman possessed. "Perhaps you should."

**.**

The carriage stopped halfway across their destination and the King stormed to his son's carriage, face red with fury. Link gazed out the window absentmindedly, oblivious to the look the duchess was giving him.

He felt sore all over. He _loathed_ long trips. They were always so tedious, and it was near impossible to sleep with the constant shuffling of the carriage.

Link rolled back his shoulders, the muscles in his arms pressing against the fabric of his tunic, and the duchess inhaled sharply. At the sound, he turned to her with a look of surprise, as if noticing her for the first time. She blushed. "Julietta," she blurted and he rose a brow.

"Excuse me?"

"My name…" She turned even redder. "It is Julietta."

Link nodded, smirking. "Right, of course." He bowed his head forward slightly. "My brother's new fiancé."

Her lips pursed at the words and she took out a red fan, opening it swiftly with a flick of the wrist. He smiled at the haughtiness that mingled with her pretty face - finding it unnerving yet undeniably beautiful. "My parents," she scoffed. "They took a liking to him after my previous fiancé died."

"Tragic," Link commented absently.

Julietta gave him a sharp glare, and he only blinked. "He died a war veteran. But in truth, I never really loved him anyway." She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture and Link cocked a brow.

"Oh?" He laid a hand across the windowsill again but kept his eyes locked onto hers. "And what about Marth?"

"I care for him less," she answered brashly and titled her chin up, as if daring him to say otherwise.

Link frowned, feeling a tinge of sympathy for his brother. _Poor sap. When will he ever really find love?_

Julietta let out a huff of disbelief, as if reading his thoughts. "Pompous and uninterested is what he is. Wouldn't stop telling me about Zelda and how they were going to get married soon."

She rolled her eyes and sniffed at that, as if the mere image disgusted her. Link laughed softly and flashed her a quick grin. She reddened and began to fan herself more avidly. "And you, Prince? Are you also chasing after her heart?"

"You heard the plan." He smiled. "Though I'm hoping you won't tell-"

"Hope to die first."

"-in a sense, yes. Seeing as how my brother failed miserably it's my chance now. I'm not passing it up."

"You do not love her?"

He smacked his lips and glared out the window. "Too independent for my taste."

"Well, I'll have you know I am acclaimed to be the most dependent woman in all of Termina." She smiled and batted her long lashes. The Knight grinned, unfazed at the sweet drawl in her words. The noble class were fickle people, he was more than aware of this. Link reached a hand to her and she leaned forward, eyes fluttering shut - he snatched the silver locket hanging on her neck, just as her hands flew to stop him. He clutched it firmly, glaring. She gasped and jerked back.

The chain broke and he examined it carefully. Her face was contorted in fury. "What was that?"

Link's hand curled around the pendant and glared at her. "You are not from Termina. This locket cannot be found there; merchants are too cheap to transport such authentic Atlean jewelry all the way across the forest."

She turned red and her mouth opened then closed. "I- that…" she stammered.

"And you told the King during our pleasant little ride that you were oh-so-excited to travel with us since you have never been to Hyrule. But that was a lie, wasn't it? You told us you were of noble blood. Lie as well."

"You…but…"

"The Vernans, your family, are famous for adopting poor needy children into their home. To discipline them and marry them off to get more money." Link tossed around her necklace carelessly, she followed it with wide eyes. He, much to her surprise, reached for her again and pulled back her blond hair to reveal pointed ears. "You are a Hylian street rat. Taken in by the Royal Family, served under Princess Zelda. You admired and adored her. And she was your best friend, yes?"

She gulped. "How did you…?"

Link smirked. "Marth shipped this 'friendship necklace' off to Zelda who, predictably, gave it away." He grinned arrogantly. "It also helps that he showed me this necklace before sending it off. It was one of a kind. Ridiculously expensive too."

Eyes widening, she made for a desperate grab. He hoisted it farther and caught her wrist with a quick swipe of another hand, shaking his head. "Do not think me a fool."

Her cheeks burned and his eyes narrowed. "If you utter a single word of warning to her Highness, it will not go unnoticed."

She bared her teeth, cheeks flushed pink.

He lowered his voice and nearly growled out. "Understand?"

She scoffed in disdain, pulling her wrist away. He leaned forward again, eyes glowering. She stiffened and nodded. "Understood."

* * *

"Not too tight!" The Princess gasped as the maid tugged on her girdle. It enclosed harshly across her waist and she heaved for air, clutching at the ache blossoming on her torso. "Oh, gods."

"Too tight, highness?" the maid inquired in a sickeningly sweet way, her reflection popping into the mirror before her.

Zelda closed her eyes and breathed in deeply through gritted teeth. "No, no." She opened her eyes and straightened her posture. "It's fine."

Her lady-in-waiting, Malon, was currently shuffling through her wardrobe with visible enthusiasm. "I heard," Malon said as she tossed out a yellow ballgown back, "that the Alteans were coming for a visit today."

Zelda felt a smirk curl to her lips. "Marth?"

"No, no!" Malon cried almost offhandedly. "The new prince."

The air in the room seemed to grow thick and Zelda drawled out, "Yes, that's true. It will be a challenge."

"Calling it a challenge might be a bit of an underestimation," Malon nodded seriously, her blue eyes grave. "A Knight from Calatia as a suitor? That's nothing to make light of, Zelda."

"So?"

Malon snorted at her ignorance. "Have you not heard of them? War-hardened soldiers with coals for eyes and an empty hole where their heart should have been. The concept of love is lost to them."

"As it is with me," Zelda interrupted. Her maid let out a sound at the back of her throat, something much like a scoff.

Malon sighed as she folded the dress she found to her liking, grinning when the princess shot her a glare, obviously not agreeing with her choice. "I don't know why you're like this. If I had dashing princes asking for my hand I'd be in heaven."

"It's not as fabulous as you'd think, Malon." Zelda sighed as she snatched up the dress, surveying it before nodding in reluctant approval, thought she found the neckline a bit too low than what she would have normally preferred. The red-head cocked her brow and smiled softly, curling back her hair. "I'll stay with you, then."

"You just want to meet him." Zelda snorted as she zipped up the side of her sunset-colored gown. The edges were velvety and flowing, the sleeves fanning out with its scalloped design. A tasteful peek of ivory lace peeked out from the dipped collar, and the bosom was a complex mix of silk and red velvet, crossing in smooth strokes as they hugged her curves. A rose was imprinted on the waistline, perfumed with a matching scent, and at the neckline was a plain gold chain that rested beneath her heart.

"Guilty," Malon admitted, her tone empty of shame.

**.**

Zelda was never one for sparring exactly, but taking the fact that her next victim was a Calatian Knight, she spared no openings for chance. Sweat drenched her hair and clung to the nape of her neck. Malon scolded her furiously from the sidelines, seeing as how she was ruining her dress.

The disgruntled princess slipped into an exact replica and, if possible, wore an even tighter girdle. Her father had the palace decorated an extravagant royal blue theme for their special guests.

The carriage arrived promptly and on time, as one would guess. She stepped by her father's side with a look of pure boredom as the sunlight poured over the courtyards they stood on. Malon was beaming as the pristine carriage pulled over to the side, the horse, an ebony stallion, neighed in familiarity of the place.

Zelda bit back a scowl.

Its bretheren came - a chestnut mare - and the horse whinnied fondly to it. Guards posted themselves in a spacious circle around the courtyard, securing the perimeter. The first carriage opened and who else to step out but Prince Marth? He had grown taller, his blue hair longer, and posture more self assured. His eyes trailed to her and a light blush stained his cheeks.

Malon beside her giggled when Zelda turned a slight pink in return, not completely at ease with the tangible feel of unrequited love in the air. As the prince approached, rather sluggishly, his father stepped out next. King Donivan hardly changed at all. His ruby eyes were cold and the smile that came to his face was just as unsettling as before. He came closer and shook hands eagerly with the King of Hyrule.

Daphnes laughed. "You have not changed a bit, Donny."

King Donivan's eyes flashed but he smiled still. "Indeed. You haven't either, friend."

"Is that a compliment?"

They both laughed fondly and Marth came to a stop next to his father looking highly anxious.

Zelda's cheeks cooled to their normal pale hue and she nodded at the royals indifferently. "King, Prince, it's a pleasure."

Marth bowed to her respectfully and Malon cocked her head at him with a courteous smile. He nodded to her before allowing his eyes to fly back to Zelda. "Princess. It is an honor too see you so well and healthy as before."

"You as well," she sniffed and felt Malon elbow her roughly. She forced a smile on her face. Marth turned an instant shade of red and she coughed, not liking how drastic the effect of her words were.

"Princess!" Donivan exclaimed. "You have yet to meet my older son."

"Older?" Zelda repeated. _Dear goddesses, if he's twice my age..._

"By a year," Daphnes reassured her with an amused look.

Zelda sighed in relief inwardly. "Oh."

The second carriage opened. A young man stepped out. Malon gasped audibly beside her and gripped her arm tightly, a muffled squeal of delight escaping her lips. The princess' vision spun and her mouth fell ajar ever so slightly.

_Dear goddesses…why must you make things so hard?_

Vivid locks of tasseled gold cascaded in messy tumbles over one another, ending just above a strong chin and brushing lightly tanned cheeks. They framed an angular face with flawless features, casting shadows against his dark lashes. There was a curve in his jaw, a certain structure in his cheeks that emphasized how finely molded his features were. Sharp azure eyes gazed around, taking in the scene before flitting and settling on her, intense and arresting.

Malon gasped again and Zelda closed her mouth, blinking from the trance._ What in the world…?_

The prince broke eye contact coolly and helped another lady from the carriage. Zelda recognized the other passenger easily as the new Vernan duchess famed for her many unsuccessful marriages. She had no doubt that the duchess had not refrained from flirting while on the way

The duchess, on her part, looked indignant and flushed. The prince rose a brow as she took as his hand and stumbled forward, taking him with her. The King shot them a rather annoyed look, making subtle gestures with his hand.

The prince wrenched himself away from the duchess with a reassuring gentleness in his movements and strode confidently to them, face strangely stoic. Her stomach tied itself into a thousand knots when he stopped near her, his forest musk wafting up the air.

_Stay strong. Stay resilient. Don't…_

A hesitant smile played on his sinfully appealing lips and he bowed gracefully before her, blonde locks shifting at the movement. Butterflies jittered in her stomach restlessly.

_Gorgeous. She felt sick…_

He lifted himself up, smile now a grin. She blinked her eyes rapidly, dazzled by the vision of sheer perfection reincarnated into a human form. A lone Sheikah earring glinted sharply on his left ear.

"Princess Zelda," he greeted. It was almost as if music had played straight to her ears and she gasped as his eyes locked onto hers, probing. "It's a pleasure finally to meet you. I've been looking forward to it."

She blinked again, dazed. He'd been looking forward to it?

"I…" she stopped and breathed in to take in some much needed air. "I… I welcome you to Hyrule, Prince…?"

An unfamiliar look passed his face and he tilted his head forward, his blond locks tumbling down to brush his shoulders. "Link, your Highness. Please just call me Link."

Marth scoffed by his father, who elbowed him roughly in the stomach.

Perhaps, Zelda thought in her head, the Alteans' visit was a good idea. And perhaps this prince would prove himself in due time before she crushed his heart.

* * *

Prince Link had the honor of being guided to his guest room by Princess Zelda herself. Many maids lined the hallways, sneaking peeks behind him and turning red whenever he caught their gaze. He refrained from winking, of course. It would have been rude.

Zelda strode ahead of him at a timed pace, blonde tresses swaying hypnotically behind her. He stepped next to her, smile in place. "This castle is impressive, Princess."

She stiffened at the sound of his voice. "Yes, yes, I suppouse it is."

He noted the gesture with a carefully blank expression and aimed his attention to the portraits. To give the princess her due, she really did surpass his expectations. Her beauty was so remarkable it was almost intimidating. Almost. Her hair was like finely spun gold with the sleekness of silk, and her indigo eyes were cunning and decisive, ever-glittering in the flattering sunlight. Her figure was flawless and her face was like that of a wise goddess, heavenly and all-knowing. He'd be lying if he said that he hadn't had the wind knocked out of him when his eyes first found her.

"Have you rode past Hyrule Field?" she asked lightly, opening the path for genial small talk.

He turned to her and smiled gently. The room lit up, as if bathed in sudden candlelight, and she scowled."Yes, I have. Your country is truly beautiful, Princess." She had heard the phrase tossed around to her a million times, but the sincerity in his voice was surprising.

Many nobles were more impressed with grand stone statues, and hot, paved roads with concrete buildings everywhere in comparison to fresh grass, quaint country sides and forests on every border. Then again, he wasn't exactly a pure royal.

For some strange reason, that appealed to her greatly. Something she did not like one bit.

"Yes, I love the fields as well. It's my favorite place in Hyrule."

"Really now?" he sounded intrigued. "I would have expected it to be mansions or stores."

Zelda chuckled, forcing out the right amount of bitterness. "You would have, wouldn't you?"

He bowed his head to her side looking gloriously apologetic and handsome as he did so.

_I didn't just think that,_ she cursed herself.

"Apologies. You must meet many stereotypes on such visits like today." He said, tone soft and cautious.

She allowed herself to be a bit surprised. "No," her reply was purposely slow, the lie sinking in her words. "The nobles are a polite group of people. I enjoy visits from them."

"Even me?" he asked beguilingly. Her teeth gritted together automatically. Flirting? Was she actually taking this…_open flirting_? She was a princess!

But then she remembered her father's words and tired appearance from yesterday and she relented to his smile by feeble trying to mirror it.

"Your room," she cleared her throat spinning to a slow stop in front of a pair of twin ivory doors, cherubs carved on edges. Link's nose wrinkled with a slight distaste, and soon offered another hasty for cover. "Thank you, Princess Zelda. I look forward to seeing you at dinner tonight."

"The feeling is mutual," she responded.

He smirked and her stomach churned at the sight. "Of course."

**.**

Malon smirked as she watched the princess lash out on the straw dummy with relentless attacks. "So…" she sighed and leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "How is he?"

"You were there," Zelda snapped, cleaving the wooden dummy in half.

"I was, wasn't I?" Malon dimpled. "I was right beside you fanning myself while your mouth hung open like you were dying fish."

The Princess grunted, cutting through the remains of her lifeless victim mercilessly, chopping and slashing. "I admit I was unprepared. Though most of the blame falls on you, I'm afraid."

"Me?" Malon jabbed a finger to her chest, looking incredulous. "Why me?"

"Who told me that Calatian Knights had coals for eyes? You did. I was expecting a relatively unattractive sap with no personality whatsoever, not... not him," Zelda finished lamely.

"So he has sapphires for eyes, does he?" Malon teased. "I'm sorry if I've misinformed you, O Great One."

"You should be. I looked like an absolute fool." Zelda stuck her blade through the ground, burying it through hardened soil.

"It doesn't mean you'll give up, though."

"Not a chance," Zelda shooed the mere thought away. "He's just another face in the sea of worthless pigs who want to usurp my rightful throne."

"He's terribly handsome for a pig," Malon sighed, dropping down to the green grass beneath her feet and picking at them absently.

"And terribly cunning for a man." Zelda crossed her arms, her gaze landing to the sky above. The sun was sinking down on the horizon, bright blazes of rubicund light coloring the thick clouds as it descended, making way for the settling dusk.

Night was falling soon. Dinner was coming.

She thought of his smirk, feeling her appetite vanish and her stomach twist in anxiety.


	3. Chapter 3

_**(Re-edited)**_

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda.**

* * *

**3**

Zelda picked at her delicate salad, eyes automatically glued to the floor to prevent the fluttering in her stomach. Her father sat across the table, munching contentedly. The silence in the room was deafening.

"What do you think of him?" her father swallowed, looking at her expectantly.

"Of who?" she asked, fiddling with the silverware.

Daphnes sighed wearily, placing his elbows on the table. "Oh, quit stalling Zelda. What do you think of Link? He's a fine young man, isn't he?"

She stabbed at her rotisserie and her mouth curled to a pretty sneer. "I've just met him. What right do I have to judge?"

"Really now?" She was sure her father sounded smug...and amused. "I guess I'll just have to wait it out, then?"

The pair of doors behind him swung open, and in walked King Donivan, eyes sparkling with mirth. Flanking his sides were his two sons, Marth who glared shortly at Link before striding in after his father in a usual stiff manner.

She averted her eyes from the blond prince who came to a stop behind her, his scent filling her senses and making the blood race to her ears._ Hyacinths. _He smelled of _hyacinths._ The air grew thick as the aroma suffused her. She felt sick again.

"Daphnes, you shouldn't have." King Donivan smiled as he gestured to the grand buffet, a pleased glint in his eyes begging to differ.

"It is hardly a drop from the bucket. Sit, sit." Daphnes waved it away with a flick of his wrist.

Marth swooped in and immediately took the seat right to Zelda, determined to prove defiant against his father. Link and the King raised a brow at him, identical smirks curling their lips. He slumped in his chair and coughed feebly, blushing underneath their taunting gaze. Link sat himself on her other side, warmth radiating from his presence in hot waves. Her cheeks flushed and her scowl deepened.

Still, her stomach fluttered when he made eye contact with her. "Good evening, Princess."

"Good evening, Prince Link." She forced a smile on her face, heart hammering in a sordid manner.

He grinned brilliantly and cocked his head towards her. "I saw you sparring outside earlier today." She sniffed and straightened her posture as he continued.

"I admit, it surprised me. Sparring is not considered lady-like in Altea." He sipped at a flute of rich red champagne, glancing at her from the corner of his eyes before returning back to the drink with a frown.

She blinked and reddened, hands curling to fists. "I suppose so."

He put down his glass, licking his lips, and titled his head to the side in an infuriatingly endearing manner. She wished he'd stop doing it.

"You seem to be full of surprises, Princess. Do you spar regularly?"

She nodded lightly and picked at her salad again, suddenly finding the insipid arrangement of greens endlessly fascinating. "Practice makes perfect."

The corner of his lips tugged in a smile again, devious yet slathered with mock kindness. "I couldn't agree more. Why don't you show me what you have learned so far? It would be my honor to spar against you in a round or two."

_He'll probably kill me and make it look like an accident._

She caught her father's eyes and saw what was expected of her, wincing as he nodded encouragingly. The refusal on the tip of her tongue died away. "It would be my pleasure," she hissed through bared teeth.

He flashed a blinding grin - obviously pleased to find that even her own father had abandoned her side. "Fantastic!"

Marth finally spoke out, voice deep and firm as he sent a smoldering glare towards his brother. "You would not mind if I came along, Princess?"

Link cleared his throat rather loudly and King Donivan's eyes snapped to them just as Zelda opened her mouth to reply. His ruby irises glowered imperiously. "Marth." He clicked his tongue and wagged his head in a fatherly manner.

Marth stiffened in his chair.

"You know better than to forget of your dinner reservations at the _Cafetera de Crepúsculo."_

_"Is can exspecto, Abbas."_ Marth said in an indignant tone, his expression tight. Zelda scrunched her nose as she tried to comprehend the meaning of their foreign words. It wasn't until she felt Link lean close to her side and whisper in her ear softly that she snapped back.

"You haven't seen the Duchess Julietta around, have you?"

"No," Zelda answered, cheeks glowing. He leaned away with a relieved expression. She pondered of what the duchess had done in the carriage ride to the castle. Perhaps something scandalous...

The thought excited and sickened her.

"Marth isn't very fond of his fiancé." He shot her a sideline smirk, crossing his arms.

"Actually," Marth cut in, not taking his eyes of his father. "I'm not fond of her _at all_."

"Ho!" King Daphnes grinned cheerfully, trying to break between the growing tension settling over them with boisterous laughter. "Your boy is quite picky, Donny!"

"A bit too much for his good," King Donivan growled under his breath, fingers weaving into his silver hair in frustration.

"Speaking of which, where is the darling?" Link leaned back in his chair lazily, flicking at his collar.

"She said she wasn't feeling well when we arrived. The poor dear locked herself up in her room." Donivan said, voice laced with the barest hint of true concern. Zelda was digusted.

"What did you do to her, Link?" Marth snapped, directing his anger to another victim.

"What?" the blonde prince jerked straight and looked downright offeneded. "Nothing! She did look sick on the carriage ride though. A bit green too."

"Did that stop you from _flirting_?"

"Marth…" Donivan's voice became impeccably low. The air around them grew chilly. Zelda did not shiver since, Link, after all, was still radiating warmth.

"Uh-oh." Link sighed and began to tap his foot softly.

Marth's eyes flashed as he stood suddenly, his chair flying back with a creak. "Excuse me, King Daphnes. I need to go check on my _fiancé."_

"That's the spirit!" Link grinned at him. Marth's lips curled upwards in a silent snarl as he stormed out of the dining room. The door opened and shut with an enormous bang. The guards flinched at their posts, the same thoughts running through each of their metal-covered heads.

_This was getting awfully exciting. Wait 'till the maids heard about it._

After a moment of suitable silence, Daphnes blinked and lifted up a bottle of Chateau Romani. "Wine anyone?"

* * *

Malon gripped the horse's reigns and tugged with all her might, the rough texture of the ropes stinging the raw, pink skin of her hands. The chestnut mare snorted and reared back defiantly, snickering when Malon fell to the ground and moaned as a particularly sharp pang of pain went up her spine for the second time.

"That's going to hurt in the morning," she muttered to herself, rubbing her head to ease away the obscenities forming there.

"Epona's a feisty one." A voice echoed from the darkness.

She craned her head back, recognizing the voice. "Prince Link?"

"Lady Malon." There was an acknowledgement in his tone. "You are fond of horses?"

"Yes." She nodded, a bit perturbed that she still couldn't see him. Turning back to face Epona, she put on a steely expression. "But they aren't very fond of me apparently."

A chuckled wafted in her ears, soft and purring. Envy flowed through her and she shook her head in disbelief. _Lucky Zelda._

He stepped from the shadows, silhouette outlined in gleams of pale silver. "Epona usually doesn't behave so rudely in front strangers. Please, take my hand." He held out an arm as a show of courtesy and she did just that - albeit a bit hesitantly. Malon always stayed away from Zelda's suitors in fear of ending up like the women in her romance novels - the same ones that fell hopelessly in love with someone who could not afford to return their affections.

A spark of heat ignited in her fingertips as soon as contact was made, and before she could blink, a sudden wave of nausea entered her, forcing her back down. She gasped, feeling sick and dizzy.

_"Lady Malon."_ The Prince's voice was firmer and darker; the abrupt change in his tone jarring her to reality. Why could she not get up? She struggled to right herself, but was helplessly caught in his vice grip. Pain flowed from her back in swift waves and jabbed at her skull with jarring force. She could feel her mind whirl from the collision, the blood pumping loudly in her ears as her body entered into a state of total panic. _"Don't resist."_

_Resist what?_

_"It'll only take a few moments. Calm down, Lady Malon." _He soothed, the gentle words almost lulling her to sleep, despite the agony racking her body senseless.

Dark spots blurred her sight, blotching out the view of the night sky. Her throat scorched as the air in her lungs seemed to burst out in agonized heaves. "Can't… see." She croaked - wanting to scream for help but failing to summon enough strength to do so. The inky dots shifted before her tauntingly, laughing at her helpless state.

His voice came again, haunting and sad. But not apologetic. Not in the least. _"Yes, I know. I'm sorry."_

"Please, pull me up…." She groaned, feeling the muscles in her jaw freeze over at the movement of her mouth..

He laid a hand on her shoulder and gripped it gently, voice crooning in her ears in hushed, velvet tones. "_It's okay, Lady Malon."_ He squeezed harder.

Fire welled inside of her, bursting through her veins, hot and overwhelming. Through the misery she felt a cool air kiss her skin - a temporary refuge from the sweltering inferno raging within her. He whispered softly, his breath icy as they puffed in her ears. _"You know, I could have saved you from this."_

She could only groan.

_"You're really quite pretty... but I'm supposed to fall in love with the Princess, see?"_

Was he doing this? Why was he doing this? Oh sweet Nayru, the _pain!_

"Hurts…Link."

The air grew thin, she gasped and choked as the wind was knocked out of her. But she trusted him, so she held on... _Why did she trust him again?_

_The pain. It's…_

"…getting worse…" She moaned and crumpled over, bending so low that her nose brushed a stray leaf on the ground. "Link…"

_"Trust me. It's for your own good."_

She did. She trusted that it would only hurt for a few moments. But she simply could not take it. "Please…"

_"Trust."_ She felt as if a spike rammed though her chest.

_"Me."_ Needles pricked at her eyes. Then darkness covered her world.

**.**

Malon's Soul lifted from her limp form and she sighed as it flowed though her parted lips. Link watched it warily. It was a light blue orb, swirling and pulsing rhythmically with life. Glowing with her essence. He reached for it greedily, watched as it circled around his fingers like a curious dog as he muttered the words of his curse.

_"My will shall break yours, and my desires, I share with you. To the end of days, you will follow and act in my stead, alone. Should you ever break hold, then death shall strike you down where you stand." _His Master had taught him the same spell years ago, the memories still as vivid and clear as ever. And it was the very same words he had spoken, in the very same deep tone of a barely sated predator, hungry for satisfaction.

His breath drifted from his mouth and cocooned the Soul. The orb's light grew fainter as it swirled and danced on his palm before collapsing back into Malon.

Link stepped away into the shadows and vanished. Lady Malon gasped and sat up with a start upon his leave, rubbing her head. Her eyes cracked open. Epona peered down at her curiously, then back to the shadows, neighing in confusion.

She followed the mare's gaze and frowned. "What just happened?"

**.**

Link awoke early the morning. He glanced down at his hands and watched as they shimmered faintly in the rising sunlight. A smirk crawled on his lips, remembering the events of last night. He still had it. There was never a single day that magic proved of no use.

He developed the skill at a ripe age and strived to perfect it each passing day. It was days such as today, that magic proved not only useful but ruthless.

It was a shame too. Lady Malon seemed so nice and endearing before. But as far as plans go, his was to be bulletproof. Flawless.

In the very end, they would all be puppets. To him.

**.**

Malon was dizzy that day and the day after. At the marketplace she thought she saw a dash of golden hair before her, winking in the sunlight before vanishing from sight. She thought she saw a young man lean across the tree, his blue eyes welcoming and familiar.

_"Trust me..."_

She saw _him_ everywhere. But why?

"The last price for this Link is _fifty_ and that's final!" The merchant cried to her, obviously tired of their barter.

She blinked, confused. _"Link?"_

"What?" the lady frowned. "No, this small quiver. It's authentic, you know."

Malon refused the offer with a polite 'no' and made her way back to the castle, dazed and uncertain.

Zelda was grumpy that day, fuming on and on about the new prince and frequently cursing in her usual elegant way. "He had the nerve to ask me to spar with him! In front of Father! Of course, I couldn't say no!"

"Spar with Link?" Malon blinked as she felt another prick at her eyes. _Link?_

"Th-the nerve!" Zelda stormed in circles, making strangling motions with her hands. "That imbecile wants a fight? I'll give him one! Malon, fetch me a new rapier from Rusl, will you?"

Malon nodded numbly and hurried off.

One person echoed in her mind. Repeatedly. Hauntingly.

_Link. Link. Link. Link. Link._

* * *

In case you don't know, I'm re-writing all the chapters. I'm quite appalled by the way I wrote them before; and Heaven knows you guys deserve the best for being so awesome as to put up with it.

:)

-HVM


	4. Chapter 4

**(Re-edited)**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda.**

* * *

**4**

Zelda had dressed light for the spar, her hair set tight in a high ponytail. She had sorted through the corners of her closet and found a pale tunic, loose and billowing - a nice change from the fitted gowns she wore often. Malon had loaned her some dark pants that she had once worn during her 'farmgirl days' - as she longingly referred to them. The red-head said she had grown out of it, her figure becoming much more curvaceous than Zelda's as of late, something she loved rubbing in the princess' face without end. Zelda had grown to be more willowy and slender, petite in build yet fairly tall.

Her thoughts strayed to Link and she found herself scowling, momentarily diverting her frustration on a wooden dummy posted before her, then walking to their assigned meeting spot. She could vividly remember his smirk upon her acceptance and glanced longingly at her sword, wishing she could wipe the smugness off his face with it.

Link himself had donned a green tunic for the occasion, sharpening his sword skills near the bare courtyard at the south of the castle grounds. She stepped from the bushes. The fog clung to the air around them.

When did it get so misty?

Zelda picked the brambles from her hair and watched him in withheld awe. He unsheathed his sword with a graceful flourish, it twinkled even in the damp cold and the air sang as he sliced through, the metal humming with every precise movement. Never had she seen such skill. Even the captain of the guards could not perform with such relative ease and cool.

"Are you going to step out soon, Princess; or keep on watching the show?"

She blinked as he stopped his training and turned to her. His cerulean eyes flickered with possession as they met her idle indigo orbs. A smile flitted softly on lips. She shuddered when he spoke. "I don't really mind performing with such a stunning audience though. You look lovely in battle gear."

"Charming," she remarked as she strode confidently to the sandy arena. He swung his blade in lazy half arcs, making way towards her.

"Let's make this a fair fight, shall we Princess?"

"That depends, doesn't it?"

"Indeed." Link nodded, pausing to smile at her. "Advantages vary on speed, experience, and flexibility." He leaned forward on his heels and reached for her. She gasped, when his hand quickly fell on her belt, unraveling a secret lining, exposing hidden Sheikah knives and daggers, all glinting murderously.

"Ah," He smiled, and her heart thudded painfully as she noticed how close they were and how cold it was. And how warm he was. "You have an exotic taste in weapons, Princess."

She nearly outstretched her hands to touch him, but restrained, sticking her arms to her side. "As do you. Your sword is unlike any I've ever seen before." She mumbled to the ground. His sword was quite beautiful, she had to admit. His eyes lit up at the mention.

Beautiful.

Er, the sword was beautiful. Not…him…

"Glad you noticed." He mused. You would wouldn't you? "This," he held up the finely crafted blade, running nimble fingers through it, "was crafted in Calatia. I had it sent to me under the king's service." Remorse clouded the fire in his irises. She frowned. "It reminds me of home." He added quietly in what could be charitably called remorse.

They hung suspended in the moment, and she nearly gaped at the show of feeling he expressed. As if reading her thoughts, stepped away swiftly and nodded to her. "Are you ready?"

"Always." Zelda tossed aside her own sword, reaching for her belt to pull out a deadly Sheikah dagger.

"Am I to suspect that you'll be fighting with that?" Link sounded amused.

"Don't underestimate me, prince."

He sighed, getting into proper stance. "I'll try."

Fueled with irritation, Zelda lunged forward with a straight jab. He dodged fluidly, deflecting the blade with a quick swipe. She pulled back and tried a downward slash, he leaned back and crossed, keeping it at bay just above his neck.

Grinning, he slid away and swiped at her torso. She knocked her hilt to the tip of his sword before it could hit its mark, and it clattered to the ground. His eyes narrowed, but quick as lightning, he rolled around her in a brief circle, snatching the fallen sword and swooping in for a jump attack. Zelda yelped, unprepared as the weight of his sword crashed her to the ground, her back thudding against the hard ground. Sand spewed in collision, whirling around them.

Goosebumps spread on her skin as he knelt before her, sword still drawn. She had never lost a fight. Never. How?

The blade shimmered faintly in her eyes and he smirked, sheathing it with the dramatic flourish, the metallic sigh ringing in her ears. His eyes were even bluer up close. The fog had given it a stormy unreadable light, attractive and impossible to pull away from.

Oh gods, did she really think that? He gazed over her, unimpressed, The thought nagged her. Link let a smile pull on his lips again, and he watched curiously as the common effect took over her: she blushed. Her cheeks tinted a rosy color and he brushed a hand across it, smug now. They heated, turning to a faint red.

_Hm._

"Your Majesty," He managed a compunctious look, sincere to the brim. "I apologize. I shouldn't have kept going. You - are you alright?"

Link knew though. She wasn't fine. Her cheeks were flushed she looked dazed and flustered. He had a vain idea of why.

"I'm okay," she gasped out, clutching the back of her neck and wincing as she struggled to rise. Link took her by the arm, grasping her firmly and pulling her up. Her golden hair spilled down her shoulders, cascading down her back and brushing his fingers. He froze at the feel for a moment.

Smiling benevolently (or at least faking) he gave her a concerned look. She met his eyes again and opened her mouth to say something when he cut her off. "Do you want to go to the infirmary? You took a heavy fall."

Numb, she shook her head. "I'm fine, really."

Link's gaze grew heavy and she was startled as his irises began to give off a light glow. "I insist. You look plenty tired right now." His voice was deep and smooth, heavy with conviction and... and something else.

"I look tired?" Zelda blinked.

"Yes."

"Oh." Her eyelids drooped slowly. She _was_ tired. So tired.

"Do you want me to carry you there?" He asked with a cautious tone, voice still lulling and steady. She felt warm.

"I…" Another part of her screamed in protest, a part muffled by the rapid thudding of her heart. She was _not_ some helpless damsel in need of rescuing.

"You sprained your ankle. You cannot walk," he said, sensing her indignation.

"I can't walk." She sighed as her knees wobbled and her legs gave out. She collapsed on his waiting arms, head lolling back to face him with half-open eyes. Link smiled kindly. She really was beautiful.

It was quite a shame he'd have to break her.

"Carry me, please," she said sleepily with a dreamy expression, a naïve smile playing on her face.

"With pleasure." Link swept her up, bridal style, thought the thought nearly made him topple over. _Bride? Get a hold of yourself,_ his mind muttered. She sank limp in his arms. "You should sleep, Zelda."

"I should sleep." She nodded in agreeement.

"Good," Link smiled down at her, "If you just obey it's much easier isn't it?"

"Yes," She mumbled with a sigh, eyes fluttering shut.

**.**

Darkness entered her world, seeping in thick streams of overwhelming dusk. His voice was deep and eerie. "Don't struggle princess. I'd hate it if you'd die before the impending marriage."

_Huh?_

She couldn't open her eyes.

"It's quite simple. Just stay still and listen to my voice. That isn't too hard is it?"

"No."

She couldn't open her eyes. She couldn't open her eyes. Why couldn't she open her eyes?

Pain washed over her like a ripping tidal wave, searing at her lungs and jabbing at her chest. She groaned, twisting forward in shock.

Open! Open! Her eyes wouldn't open!

Link's hand rested on her cheek, and she felt comfort wash away the pain slightly, making it easier to endure the hard hits directed to her skull. Her mind spun in quick rotations, making her dizzy. The world was so dark. And she was so dizzy. She reached out for help, reached out and found his hand in the spill of blackness. They held her, tight and soothing.

"Excellent. You're good at following directions, Princess. Do you understand the game now?"

Her throat was dry and air ran from her lungs. She felt empty and miserable.

"Hold my hand." He squeezed hers.

"Thank you," she rasped.

There was silence before an uneasy "You're welcome, Princess."

A glowing aura encircled the blanket of nothingness, lighting the way to a dimly-lit passageway. Icy winds nipped at her skin, fire coursed through her scalding hot blood as she raced for it, eager to return to reality. Her nerves seemed to shut off in the midst of it all.

The pain stopped. "Wake up."

**.**

The Princess of Hyrule awoke from the magic-induced slumber, her eyes fluttering open and sparkling with newfound realization. She gazed around and found the blonde prince staring back at her coolly. Then, sitting up and getting to her feet, she turned to him and slapped him across the face.

His head snapped to the side, cheek red from where she had hit him. She fumed and raged inside. Turning back slowly, he chuckled as if expecting it all along. "You are a filthy deceiving low-life scumbag and I ought to let you rot in the dungeons," she spat, lips pulled back in a snarl.

The prince flicked at his collar, pretending to be unfazed though she could see the starburst of shock in his eyes. "You are strong. Or so the experiment proves."

"Expirement?" Zelda sneered, rage burning in her eyes. The nerve of this man!

"Yes." Link looked her square in the eyes and chuckled again. "My procedure seems to be flawed doesn't it?"

"You're surprised."

"No. I'm not."

She was unconvinced. There was an underlying tone of agitation in his voice that only goaded her own ego.

"You're surprised that someone else besides you finally holds the upper hand."

"I admit I don't have it. But neither do you," he countered back as they circled each other, expressions tense and eyes unfeeling.

"What makes you so sure?" she taunted, feeling her hold in him slipping and desperately trying to regain control.

"Because," he said, slow and deep, as if savoring the feel of the words, "I know you."

"You know nothing about me."

"I know enough to tell that you're not short of knowledge. You know what I've done. You know what I'm capable of. You know you've finally found your match in this little battlefield of yours."

"I can have you reported!" Zelda shouted, her shoulders straightening as her voice grew, shaking with rage. "Locked up! Imprisoned for the rest of your thieving life! How dare you!"

"Would you?" Link inquired, rocking back on his heels. "Imprison me, I mean? Think it through."

Zelda hesitated. Her thoughts waded through a murky sea of empty threats, bursting from her mouth, low and scorching. "No. That would be too good for you." She poised herself right before him, their faces inches apart. Neither wavered from the heated glares they sent each other. "I know how you men work, prancing around with your so-called honor."

He shifted in his place, clenching his hands to fists. "You're scared, aren't you? About this hold I have over you. You're scared I'll break you."

"Just as you're scared I'll ruin you. Burn your honor to the ground and rip apart everything you stand for."

"Then it appears we've come to a draw, hasn't it?"

"Not for long," she promised him, her eyes bright with malice. He was not lost to how the fierceness of her spirit only added to the beauty of her countenance.

"Yes," he agreed tartly. "Not for long, I can promise you."

**.**

Zelda knew now what a precarious situation she had found herself in, torn between pride and duty.

If she'd give him away, she had no doubt he would worm his magic back into her heart, breaking her slowly inside. If she stayed quiet, the advantage fell between them, within reach but heavily guarded.

The business of love was a tricky thing, she decided. Because, if ever, they should fall for each other, then she knew that it was she who would have truly lost in the end.

**.**

Malon was the first puppet of the game, and he knew he would have to wield her well if he wanted to break down the Princess' defenses.

He was shocked to find that the anxiety from earlier still had not left him. He thought of her unflinching eyes and venomous words, shuddering slightly. He was a fool to have underestimated her. He was a fool to have been so careless and confident in his magic.

He was a dead man for wasting precious time sitting in his bed and thinking about her eyes instead of more pressing matters.


	5. Chapter 5

**_(Re-edited)_**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Legend of Zelda.**

* * *

**5**

Balls were customary to be held in honor of the visitor.

Strings of ivory silk crisscrossed the ceilings, caught in the tangle of light the chandeliers shed. Marble statues lined the walls, each featuring knights and kings of previous eras, their legacies emblazoned on plaques.

The floors beneath were polished to perfection, glaringly spotless.

Servants bustled along the hum of the growing mass of nobility, silver platters in hand. Lords and ladies clustered close beneath the foot of the stairs, awaiting for the arrival of the royals, gossip ready to spring from their lips.

Mindless chatter filled the room, bouncing from one corner to the other.

_"I hear the new prince is quite handsome."_

_"Aren't they always?"_

_"Do you suppose Princess Zelda has taken a liking to him?"_

_"Somehow... I doubt it."_

**.**

Zelda sat on her cushioned swivel chair, focusing intently on her reflection to paint her lips. Music filtered through the walls, lively and jaunty with its jumping harmony.

The door to her room opened soundlessly and her heartbeat spiked to an erratic pace as he entered, brazenly shooting her a smile.

_Really,_ she thought to herself, _he was quite impossible._

If the prince had remembered their little verbal quarrel from yesterday, he made no mention of it. He simply leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest.

"What are you doing here?" Zelda asked, a growl beginning to form in her throat.

"You mean here on this world? Well see," the prince began with a theatrical sigh, "that's a rather vague question. But I believe that we've all been moulded to the whims of the Goddesses above to complete our purpose in life and bring about our own mark to this petty little storybook of ours in hopes that, in time, the impact and footsteps we've left behind will serve the generations-"

"No," the Princess glared at him balefully. "Here in my room."

"Oh," he smiled briefly, blue eyes flat and dark. "I wanted to see you."

"How inconvenient," she sighed. "Because I certainly _didn't_ want to see you."

"Have you thought through my little question yet, Princess?" he asked, getting to his feet and grinning at her.

"While beheading you right now is a very tempting thought," Zelda let out a breath of mock disappointment, "I'm afraid that date will have to be rescheduled. See, I've yet to ridicule you."

"And I've yet to crush your heart into little pieces. My, what a troublesome situation we've got ourselves in."

Zelda traced a finger through the contours of her face, scanning diligently for any flaws to erase. His eyes burned through, glinting as they took in her distant expression. She knew he'd never admit defeat, not until she gave in. But she, herself, was far from asking for his mercy. For now, the scores were held at a tie.

He titled his head forward, smiling when a flush crawled up her neck at his heavy stare. "What you suggest we do?"

She saw it in two different ways. One, she exposed him for the worthless scum he was and he'd rot her inside out, drawing strength from her despair through his grave - or they'd both go along the stream of the flotsam and jetsam of a normal noble life 'till one of them broke.

"I suggest you keep your magic and spells to yourself unless you want us both to be dead."

* * *

Admittedly, the ballroom was exquisite in its beauty. Twirls of silk banners flew gracefully above the stainless marble tiles. Painted glass adorned the windows meticulously positioned above the stage set for performance, which was large and grand with blood red curtains sliding over the slick floors.

An array of butlers and waiter stood stiff by the banquet, eyes glued to the front. Guests had already poured in, boisterous laughs and suppressed giggles bounced over the arching roof. Ladies dressed in splendidly exorbitant gowns, arms with their escorts, sat primly on the seats, fans waving and pursed lips forming into fake sour smiles.

The palace looked breathtaking. Surreal. Even better than Altea.

Zelda's gaze swept over the room, her face and eyes set in a cold calculating look. She hadn't quite lost the smolder of fury in her eyes whenever she looked at him, but he was confident that she'd keep silent. For now.

The circlet on her head glimmered and she glanced quickly at him, her lips parting to whisper in his ear, "I trust your acting skills must be impressive enough to cover us for now."

He grinned at her.

The announcer gave them an impatient eye and, with Zelda's curt nod, snapped his fingers, calling attention. The musicians began to play, trumpets echoing imperiously and violins starting a soft tune.

"Introducing Her Royal Highness and Heiress to the Throne of the Hyrule: Princess Zelda." The nobles tittered about and the announcer shifted his eyes to Link, narrowing.

"And her escort for tonight's Royal Gala, Descendant of the Great Calatian Knights and sworn Heir to Altea's throne: Prince Link Avignon the Second."

Polite applause and a few giggles.

They descended down the stairs gracefully, masks of propriety set in place.

Zelda caught a flash of blue among the crowd, which fanned out before her, and the impeccable smell of fish wafted up her nose. She stiffened. Link seemed to notice as well as he guided her among the crowd in a sudden, quick pace. "What is that atrocious fishy smell?"

She giggled in spite of herself. "My cousins."

Link look bewildered - whether at her sudden change of mood or the answer she gave him, she couldn't tell. "What?"

She knew, as the certain fishy smell got stronger and Link had to hold in his breath, that the familiar '_daaahhhhhling_' would greet her ears once more.

**.**

"Oh, look there Rallis!" A voice chimed out shrilly. Ruto appeared from the gaggle of wide-eyed noblewomen, her slender and tall figure easily distinguishable. "Zelda! _Daaaahhhhhling, _you look gorgeous!"

Link had to turn away briefly, setting his grimacing lips to an amiable smile.

Ruto hadn't changed a bit since Zelda last saw her. Straight and sleek blue hair glimmered down her back, curves were fully visible and her dress showed more than a peek of the shapely pale blue legs she loved to flaunt about. Her brown eyes were narrow and condescending as she sized the Hylian Princess up with dry praise. "Dear me, you're nearly my height now."

Despite Ruto's apparent beauty - which contributed to the many suitors that visited her daily - the smell that hovered about around her drove away most sensible men. A wife that smelled of fish was, apparently, a very horrifying prospect for them.

Link turned back to them putting his best and by far the most fake smile to ever grace his face. Ruto noticed him and a feline grin came over to her face as she licked her lips. "And who is this, dear cousin?"

Ruto was shallow when it came to men, but it seemed Link met all her requirements on the spot. She eyed the handsome blond who flashed a disarming grin and held out his hand for her to shake.

"This is Prince Link Avignon of Altea," Zelda said, biting her tongue to quell the next words - the very same ones that would ultimately reveal him and kill her - from leaving her mouth. Instead, she opted for, "He's a suitor of mine."

_He's also a manipulative pig who's quite talented at the art of magic, but I'm afraid I can't tell you that yet._

Ruto took his hand and shook it, a bit of red tinting her cheeks. "Your favorite, I presume?"

"Far from it actually."

Link laughed musically as he let go of Ruto's hand to wrap an arm around Zelda's waist, clamping them there none too gently. "I't's quite a shame, seeing as how compatible we are."

Ruto giggled in a ditzy manner. "Yes, quite. A handsome man such as yourself should not go to waste. Have you any plans of wooing any other royalty?" she asked, subtly hinting herself.

Link's eyes glinted with the familiar amusement and Zelda rolled her eyes inwardly. Ruto, for all her flirtatious and eccentric ways, would be a goner. Even _her_ icy, fish-smelling heart would be wet clay in Link Avignon's hands, no doubt about it.

"No. I'm afraid not. I have eyes for only one girl."

"I pity her then." Zelda scowled.

Link chuckled and shot Ruto a quick wink, which nearly sent the Zora into a breathless phase. "She'll warm up to me."

It wasn't long before finding that Link was not at all interested in her that Ruto left. Link let out a relieved breath. "Great Farore! Your cousin is as smelly as she is pretty." He moved his hands away from her to wipe his eyes. "But I'm impressed, Princess. You really do know how to put up an act, don't you?"

"And you really do have a knack of lying through a smile, don't you?" she quipped.

He grinned. "Touche."

She squared her shoulders, trying to ignore how the glint of his blue eyes made his whole face light up. "If you're not too busy scheming on about how to plot my downfall, I'd like some punch."

* * *

Nabooru couldn't quite describe the emotions that had hit her upon seeing him there.

She hid behind the draperies near the kitchen door, her eyes fixated on him. He was walking away from the Princess who had spun suddenly into the crowd and disappeared from sight while he poured himself a cup of punch.

A prince, she realized again without a shadow of the doubt. The boy was a man. And the man was a prince.

Still, her brain failed to connect the two together as she watched him, seeing through the shell and inside.

_"Rinku,"_ she hissed.

He stopped, confusion twisting his expression as he looked around inconspicuously, lips pursed.

_"Rinku."_

His head snapped to the side, eyes finding hers suddenly. She turned on her heel and burst inside the kitchen doors with a laugh.

**.**

Link rushed after, his heart flying to his throat upon recognition. All thoughts of Zelda and punch and magic vanished as his mind reeled back furiously - urging for him to follow.

She stood across from him, elbows propped onto an empty table littered with scattered spices and crushed herbs. He stopped to blink, taking her in with wide eyes. The kitchen was abandoned and desolate, leaving only silence.

"Nabooru."

She smiled wickedly, nodding at him.

She had changed. Changed in ways that left parts of his mind unbearably confused; doubting that she was the same girl who had given him a scar on his face and laughed at his shock. Her lips were fuller, the angles of her face more defined and dramatic. Her hair was longer, pulled back in a flaxen ponytail that swished behind her like a whip. Her scullery-maid uniform was undeniably flattering, bringing to light her flaring curves and flaunting legs that seemed to stretch for miles.

"Hello Link. Still alive, I see." She grinned at his slack jaw, pleased by his reaction. "You got here the easy way, hm?"

"Is it obvious?" he asked with a feeble smirk, tugging at his collar and fingering the fine fabric of his dress shirt. The faint smell of hot desert sand whipped across the room, making him both nostalgic and sick.

"Is it obvious that _I_ didn't?" Nabooru grinned broadly at his nervous disposition. She twirled, the hems of her ruffled skirt flying.

"Well, unless you're wearing that uniform to seduce me - which I admit is working quite well - then I'd have to say so." Link said, struggling to commit his eyes to meet her intense gaze.

She broke off into amazed laughter. "Your tongue is still sharper than your sword."

"Politics is tricky business."

"And so is love," Nabooru narrowed her golden eyes, cupping her chin with both hands. "You and Princess Zelda? Who would have thought."

He could see that she hadn't missed the slight darkening of his eyes. Not in the least. "In time. Maybe." He shuffled his feet, glancing up at the ceiling.

She teased out her caramel locks, smiling deviously. Her voice lowered to a taunting whisper. "Am I hearing that right? Have you finally found the 'One'?"

"No," he grunted in reply, shooting her a vicious glare. "Though I'm starting to think she has."

"You can't make everyone fall in love with you, Link." Nabooru sighed, rolling her tawny eyes and biting on her lower lip mischievously as he watched his expression tense and the muscles in his shoulders coil at the remark.

"Are your clothes too tight, Nabooru? Of course I can."

"Then how come_ I_ don't love you?"

"Because we share a deep friendship forged out of the strongest fires. So naturally, the idea of falling in love with each other is disgusting."

"Or," Nabooru said, "maybe just the idea of falling in love with _you _disgusts me."

"Ah, you women and your denials..."

"You know," the dark-skinned woman flashed her teeth, eyes glittering prettily. "I'm starting to think this whole seduction method of mine is flawed."

"Considering the fact that I'm not exactly swooning, I whole-heartedly agree," Link said. "Care to try harder?"

"Not really. I can see you're too busy with her Highness at the moment to really play around."

"Sad, but true."

"Then I suppose it falls on me to tell you she's escaped."

Alarm blossomed on his face, making her laugh. He broke away, looking bewildered. "What?"

"She's with your brother at the moment." Nabooru glanced at her nails condescendingly. "Handsome fellow, that one."

His reply was terse and laconic. "I have to go."

She waved him away with a cat-like grin, voice purring and soft. "I know."

* * *

The air did little to sort through her mottled thoughts. Even a few minutes in his presence scattered them senselessly, leaving her vulnerable and unsuspecting. She briefly pondered about the other princesses, living off into their fairytale lives, and wondered if they had ever felt like this. Threatened and lost.

She thought not.

A sudden noise came up behind her, sounding like a low, guttural cry. "Princess?"

She spun, her heart dropping to her stomach as her eyes met familiar blue orbs, hazy with alcohol.

"Prince?"


	6. Chapter 6

**_(Re-edited)_**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda.**

* * *

**6**

"I never expected you'd be so tall." Hands snaked around his arms, pulling incessantly.

The newly crowned Prince of Altea's gaze was distant, intently focused over the throng of tittering ladies that had congregated around him. His teeth were bared in annoyance as he slowly realized that she - the Princess, the one woman whom he was NOT permitted to ever let leave his sight - had completely disappeared.

The woman before him pulled at his sleeves again. He spared her a brief glare, shrugging away her hands and wincing as nails drew back from his flesh. Her autumn brown hair fanned out in curls atop her pretty head and her green eyes were narrowed spitefully. "What is the matter?"

"I have to take my leave," Link said in his best somber voice. "I apologize."

"Oh, but surely you can stay for the buffet," a plump and heavily powdered woman simpered at him through a fan.

"I'm afraid it's best if I not linger. I am looking for my partner."

"Oh, you mean Princess Zelda?" the green-eyed woman said to him, pursing her painted lips. "I saw her in the balcony."

"The balcony," Link repeated blankly. Of _course,_ she'd be in the balcony. He knew well that whenever ladies needed air or time to sort through their thoughts, they always went to the balcony. The fact was so glaringly obvious he felt quite sheepish upon not suspecting she'd be there earlier.

"Oh! But where are you going?"

They watched as he stepped back, fluidly sinking back into the throng of people mingling about on the floor.

**_._**

The blue-haired prince lumbered his way towards her, his knees bent slightly as if to support the sway of his steps. She stiffened, pressing against the stone railings in an attempt to distance herself.

Marth hiccuped, staring at her blearily through unfocused eyes. "What," he paused with a frown, "are you doing here?"

"Thinking." Zelda narrowed her eyes in an attempt to show him she couldn't quite do so with him hovering around. "Are you..." her gaze wavered, shifting to the empty champagne flute in his hand, "... drunk?"

Marth followed her gaze, looking at it and blinking slowly. "I guess so," he said with dawning realization. "Yes. I'm positive now." He smiled. "Chateau Romani, imported straight from Termina."

"Oh."

"Do you know what the best part of being drunk is, Princess?"

"I can't say I do."

"It fills me with the courage I normally don't have to do inane and inexcusable things. For example, just a mere hour ago I called my father the most miserably despicable _failed existence_ in this world."

"Oh dear," Zelda remarked lightly.

"And after that I told Julietta she looked rather fat in her dress."

Zelda's brow twitched. "Definitely inexcusable."

"You would think that, wouldn't you?" he smirked, staggering closer. She grimaced as he nearly collapsed on the railings beside her with a sharp grunt. "You ladies have your basic functions; you wear dresses, smile prettily, gossip about petty nothings, fall for handsome men..."

The Princess' stomach twisted at his words, feeling rage well in her chest. Marth turned, his expression suddenly darkening. "You will fall for him, you know. I can see it."

"Him?"

"Link," he clarified grimly. "I'm somewhat certain of it. Everyone falls for him, like they mistake beauty for innocence. My father's practically begging to the gods that we'd somehow switch places. That Link would be his real son and not me." He looked down the balcony, the wind making him tip forward slowly. "It's a damned shame he can't love you back."

"I don't love him," Zelda snapped indignantly. "I think your brother is - quite frankly - the worst suitor I've ever had the displeasure of meeting."

"Hm." Marth glared at the stem of his flute. Then, without warning, he smashed it to the ground behind him with a piercing yell. Shards of glass spewed forth into the air, catching the silver glints of moonlight as they split into tiny pieces.

"Marth..." Zelda's voice cracked at the edges, trembling slightly. She hated it. "Calm down."

"It isn't fair!" he spat to the sky.

"I see I've arrived at the pivotal point of your rendezvous."

The voice was familiar and unwelcome. The Princess' eyes flew to the opening of the balcony where a tall, young man appeared soundlessly underneath the archway, the scent of hyacinths bursting into the cool wind that rippled through, announcing his arrival.

Marth glared at him stonily.

"Link."

**_._**

"You know, if you wanted to evade me, you could have gone somewhere less conspicuous." He narrowed his eyes at her, holding back a sneer.

"If the balcony is as conspicuous as you say why couldn't you have come sooner?" There was a trace of accusation in her tone, betraying panic. He almost smiled.

"I thought you needed more time," he said, not missing a beat.

She scowled, crossing her arms and squaring her shoulders.

Link trudged forward to where his brother stood, hunched together and groaning. His eyes darkened and he placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Your first time drinking, isn't it Marth?"

The blue-haired prince flinched.

"'Father' was not pleased with your earlier outburst." Link smirked, despite the tangible tension settling over them. "And Julietta's been fretting over her figure for some reason. She hasn't eaten anything yet," he laughed sharply. "You're quite the heartbreaker."

Marth stayed silent, his mouth pursing to a thin line.

"Go to her before the rumors spread." Link forced the cold edge into his voice, tightening his grip. "We don't need any unhealthy publicity. Not now, anyway."

"Fine," Marth glowered angrily.

If all the hatred in the world could have been rolled up into one word capable of spelling out spite in a thousand other ways, that was what it would have sounded like. Link smiled, watching as he limped away, turning only to cast another short, meaningful look at the Princess.

As soon as Marth was safely out of sight, he turned to her with a sparkling grin - a stark contrast to the smolder set in his eyes. "I believe the words you are looking for are 'thank you.'"

She smiled sweetly, her voice dripping with acid. "I'd rather toss myself out of the balcony."

Link flinched playfully, stepping up beside her to stare out into the sky. The stars were extraordinarily bright for some reason, looking like a handful of diamonds spilled onto fine black velvet. The air was fragrant with the smell of flowers from the topiary below where a bed of hibiscus had reached full bloom, their richly colored petals splaying forth perfectly, looking smooth and flawless.

"You are quite something, you know," he said to her absently.

The Princess blinked at him, the confusion in her eyes making her features soften. "Are you talking to yourself again, or to me?"

He laughed, glancing at her quickly before shrugging and turning away. "I've never met a woman who spoke her mind so rashly before. It's refreshing."

"And I've never met another man who had an ego larger than me. It's... not that refreshing actually."

"So you _admit_ your ego _is_ large!" he cried in a triumphant manner.

The Princess sighed with infinite patience. "When you're being waited on by hundreds and dressed in silk all your life, it's hard not to let _some_ of the glory get to your head." She fiddled with a strand of her curled hair, twining it around her finger like a ring. "The glamour gets tiring sometimes, though."

"Tiring?" he echoed, shooting her a puzzled look. "I can't get enough."

"The first taste is always the sweetest. It's all downhill from there."

Together, they let their gaze drift down to beyond the castle walls, where the field lay before them, unbound yet peaceful under the silence of the night.

"Malon lives there," the Princess said, pointing to a distant and shadowed lump beyond the flat expanse of green land. Link squinted, peering closer over her shoulder and wincing when a stray lock of her hair swept before his chin, the smell of jasmine and lilacs attacking his senses like rabid dogs ready to pounce. "Lon Lon Ranch."

"So she was the rancher's daughter, hm?" Link mused, struggling to keep his thoughts together.

"Yes."

"And how did she get here?"

"I had known her almost all my life. The Ranch was suffering through some hard times when she had just reached her tenth summer so we took her in. My father adores her. It didn't take much talking to coerce him to let Malon train as my lady-in-waiting."

_'It didn't take that much talking to bend her will either..._' Link thought somewhat arrogantly.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Her lips curled to a small and unfeeling smile, beautiful despite its lack of conviction. "If I have to pretend I can stand you I might as well try and lessen my pain."

"That won't be hard," Link smirked down at her, eyes glittering like hard sapphires. "I'm a likable person."

"I've heard," she retorted dryly. He tilted his head to the side, eyes flying back to take in the scenic beauty of the land before him.

Zelda cocked a brow. "Am I to assume this is the first time you've visited our fair kingdom?"

He grinned, the contours of his face touched by gleams of pale light. "Yes."

"That's a shame."

Turning out to face the field again, he pointed to a spike in the horizon, where the peak of a jagged-looking mountain was barely illuminated. "What's that? I passed by it earlier on the carriage."

"Death Mountain." Zelda leaned forward, cupping her chin and propping her elbows on the balustrade.

"That doesn't sound pleasant."

"Because it isn't," she replied languidly. "It is protected under Royal Order. My father is a Sworn Brother to the chief of the Goron tribe there."

"Goron?" Link said, looking mildly alarmed. "The rock monsters?"

Zelda laughed. "'Monster' is quite an exaggeration for it."

"You don't sound awfully defensive."

"I've never had the cause," she shot him a look. A petal drifted in the wind, blowing by between them harmlessly. "I don't even know why my father protects the land and its people so much. Perhaps," she shrugged, "it is because of the Goron Ruby."

He tried not to show how his breath hitched in his throat suddenly, or how his shoulders tensed in anticipation. "Goron Ruby?'

Alarm flickered across the Princess' face fleetingly, quickly smothered with an expression of total impassiveness. "It's nothing."

"By the looks of it," Link goaded, "it's definitely something."

"You aren't likable at all when you're nosy, do you know that?" Her eyes glowed, flaring dangerously as she spun, the hems of her skirt flying, and marched away with a furious huff.

Silence settled in quickly in her wake and Link found himself torn between trepidation and utter glee.

* * *

The mirror itself was quite conspicuous, he knew. Its height was undoubtedly tall and the frame exquisite with its gold linings and embellished silver touches. What drew suspicion was the glass itself, which looked - instead of crystalline clear - like a slab of pure darkness, reflecting nothing but plain ebony.

Yet as he traced through the glossy, flawless surface, it surged with light, pulsing raw power and emanating a fierce coldness that sent a shiver down his spine.

Link stepped back with a light smirk, kneeling humbly with his head bowed. Strands of his golden hair fluttered wildly as an unforgiving wind burst through the windows of his chamber, carrying a deep voice.

"You've changed."

He chuckled, cocking his head. "Surely not so much that you don't recognize me."

"Your arrogance is too familiar. But you're just as clever, I know. "

"Thank you, Master."

"I'll give you the privilege of calling me by my name. It's been while since I've heard it myself." The mirror crackled, flashes of black streaking across the room and zapping the walls. "I know why you've summoned me. She knows, doesn't she?"

"More than she lets on," Link grinned. "But that won't be a problem...will it, Ganondorf?

A booming laugh snapped through the air and golden eyes peered beyond the murky depths of the mirror, smoldering. "Not in the least, my faithful apprentice."


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note/ Form of Bad Apology:**_ I'll be updating several times on the same day, so I think I'll catch up to chapter 14 pretty quickly. I'm sorry for this whole 'editing process', I just couldn't stand the way I had written before and having so many great reviewers put up with it. I felt it was up to me to up my standards a bit more._

-HVM

**(Re-edited)**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda.**

* * *

**7**

_"Come now, darling. Surely you've still got a few gold to spare." The pleasing lilt of her voice weakened his knees, and her golden eyes glittered as she tugged imploringly at the silk of his sleeves. _

A gentle wind blew between them, caressing his unlined face with touches of summer breeze.

_"You have plenty of dresses, dear. Must you really buy this one?"_

_"But I had looked so pretty in it! Didn't you think so too?" she asked, batting long, voluminous lashes._

_He tangled his fingers in her caramel hair, breathing in her scent with a sigh of longing. "You look beautiful in anything, Caveia. Be it gritty rags or fine gowns."_

_He had meant for it to please her. To make her smile. Because he loved it when she smiled._

The wind came again, pressing against his cheek, bringing a flush to blossom on his handsome features.

_She frowned, the gold of her eyes blazing with anger, and she pulled away from him with a disgusted jerk of her head. Her scent dissolved, leaving him with the unwelcome musk of the Altean city. Cigars and dirt. "I should have known. Donivan, you don't trust me, do you?"_

_"What?" He stepped back, running a hand through the curly brown locks he had inherited from his late father. His voice was thick with surprise and he blinked, startled when she waved her hands impatiently for a response. "Of course I trust you..." He reached for her again._

A burst of air broke between, forcing him back. He wondered why she had not noticed.

_"It's your mother," she snapped with a rising voice. The edges of her lips lifted to a snarl. Morning light speckled across her cheeks, lighting the exquisite contours of her bronzed, desert skin. "She doesn't like me."_

_A lump of guilt and anguish dropped to his stomach. "She doesn't know you."_

The wind pushed harder, teasing out his brown locks harshly. Her own hair - beautiful swathes of rich hazel underneath the gleam of sunlight - stayed still, falling across her shoulders prettily.

_Her brows spiked upward, conveying shock. He reached for her, fingers skittish as they traced down her arm. She pulled away again, wincing as if his touch disgusted her. "You haven't told her about me then."_

_"It was for the best. You know how mother is."_

_"No, frankly, I don't. Because I haven't met her yet."_

_"Because if you did, she would have forced me to let you go. Do you want that, Caveia?"_

_"You're ashamed of me." Her tone was so defeated and meek that he could feel his own heart breaking at the sound of it. "You're ashamed of me, Dovivan."_

_"No, darling, that's not it-"_

Something crackled in his words. Dishonesty. Shame.

A blowing gale nearly shook his form, yet Caveia stood tall, unaffected and oblivious.

_"I think that's exactly it." Maybe she was mocking him. It was hard to tell through the panic coursing in his veins._

_"If you think I'll put up with this...this secrecy, then you're wrong." She bared her teeth in defiance. "If you think I'll let you push me away like I'm some mindless concubine, then you're wrong."_

_"I'm not pushing you away!" She was being unfair, he knew. She always read into everything he did too much. But the tone of gentleness in his words was inevitable. Gods, he loved her too much..._

_"Then buy me the dress!" she shrieked, so viciously that it sent a current of cold fear down his spine. "I don't care how many I have, I want it!"_

_"Caveia?" he asked cautiously. Had this whole dispute been about the dress? He could remedy that._

_"I want it!"_

_"Caveia, darling, I'll buy it for you," he said earnestly, hoping to quell her tantrum. He hated it when she cried._

_"Really?" Her despairing look faded, replaced by shining eyes and a beautiful smile. The change of her expressions was certainly disconcerting. "You really will?"_

_"Yes." He took her hands gently and she gazed at him through her lashes, smiling tremulously._

_"Then I forgive you..."_

The wind returned, bursting through the scenery and breaking his world into tiny, splintering shards of glass. A new image played out suddenly.

**.**

_Caviea disappeared underneath the grand arches of the palace halls, waving him a simple goodbye and shooting his mother a dazzling smile._

_He grinned broadly, the beat of his heart jumping to an erratic pace as he watched her go wistfully. The moonlight fell across her in faded silver, and she looked every inch of a goddess. Unobtainable. Yet, somehow, she was his._

_The thought made his heart race._

_"You've gone mad, Donivan."_

_He turned to his mother, confused. "Pardon?"_

_Her thin lips were pursed, lifting to a sour, cynical smile. "The girl is a street urchin." She glared at him, expression severe and cold, though the smile remained. "Worse, she's a Gerudo."_

_Ah yes, Caveia's lovely desert bronze skin..._

_"I love her." His tone was blunt._

_She barked out a short laugh. "Son, you don't love her. You're infatuated. She's a bit manipulative, isn't she, Donny?"_

_He paused and thought about the dress he had bought for Caveia, how her tears had nearly driven him mad with self-loathing, how her smiles would have sent him throwing his gold into the streets just to please her...if only for a brief moment..._

_Just to see her smile._

_"No," he lied through bared teeth._

_"I forbid it, Donivan." His mother's coal eyes glinted with smoldering fury and disapproval. "I forbid any interaction with that... that dirty waif."_

_"Her name is Caviea!" Anger ran through his words, the blood pulsing in his veins turning hot. "And I refuse to stand by, idle, as you tear her away. You can't control me like that!"_

_"Donivan-"_

_"You're a hypocrite, you know that?" he continued feverishly, pointing at her while her expression remained thoroughly impassive. "You accuse her of being manipulative, when we both know it was by your own doing that my father had been sent to an early death."_

_A flicker of shock ran across the Queen of Altea's features. _

_He fumed silently. "You think I don't know? You think I hadn't known all this time about you and your filthy peasant lover? You think I don't know you bore a bastard son and stained our names? You think I don't know that you betrayed father, and, after that, sent away your lowlife consort to rot in the dungeons and signed off your son to the front lines of war just to rein in all the riches and glory of being a royal?"_

_The Queen's hand jerked upwards in a flash. A stinging sensation ran across his cheek as she slapped him harshly, the ring on her fingers scarring his skin. Her teeth were gritted. Her eyes were livid._

_"How. Dare. You."_

_His hand slid back to the scabbard at his hip and he glared at her stonily. "I'm glad I haven't fallen for a noblewoman. Perhaps they're all the same as you."_

**_._**

_"Caveia!" _

_He ran through the alleys, barefoot and covered in grime. His eyes were wild with desperation. _

_"Caveia!"_

_The people barely spared him a glance. They wanted nothing to do with the deposed - and supposedly insane - prince. The Queen held them tightly at a distance, and they all faded back, watching as he waded through a throng of uncaring city folk, looking for the woman he had lost._

_"Caveia! Caveia, darling!"_

_The women grimaced underneath their stoic masks. They would gather in secret and pity him there. But for know they wanted nothing to do with him_

_"Caveia! Caveia, please!"_

_The men grunted, ignoring him as he approached them tentatively and asked if they had seen his woman. They shook their heads and turned him away. They would talk about him later, over bottles of rum, and pity him there. But, out here in the open, they wanted nothing to do with him._

_"Caveia!" _

_A young duchess with pallid cheeks and brilliantly dark azure hair stopped him in his tracks and stared at him with sad eyes._

_"She's gone, Donivan. Back to the desert with her King."_

_"What? No... she wouldn't do that..."_

_"She's _gone_, Donivan. She left you."_

_"But..."_

_The duchess cast her eyes down and walked away. She had always wanted him, in secret. And she still wanted him now, he realized guiltily._

_A hand stopped her and she looked back at him, hopeful._

_There were tears in his eyes. "Why?"_

_She blinked, her throat drying as she caressed his cheek fondly. _

_"Why did she leave?"_

_The duchess sighed. "I...I don't think she ever really loved you at all, Donivan."_

**.**

_He had married the duchess. She had given him a son._

_But he never quite loved her._

_And Caveia... there was hatred there, deep inside him. His mother had taken him back, racked with guilt and sorrow at what she had done before. He had taken his rightful throne from her and had not shed a tear in her funeral._

_His duchess had died, young and unloved still. For her sake, he had welcomed in sorrow for a brief time._

_His son grew up with his wife's blue hair and blue eyes. He didn't really know if he loved his son either._

_He declared war on the desert people and won._

_He had grown and matured. He had triumphed and gained._

_He had lost his heart._

**_._**

_He skirted through the remains of the Gerudo Fortress, her name on his lips._

_He wanted to find her. He wanted to find her and hold her tightly and shake her and scream and cry..._

_Tell her that she deserved it and drive his blade through her stone-cold heart._

_Hold her in his arms as she died and bury her in the forgotten sands..._

_He wanted his heart back. But she had died too soon to ever give it._

**_._**

_**"**I pity you, almighty King of Altea..."_

_The golden-eyed man spluttered a deep, booming laugh, blood seeping from his mutilated face. His body was littered with open wounds and severe gashes that stretched down to his legs. _

_Donivan laid the tip of his blade against the man's throat._

_He laughed. "You mortals and your pathetic little hearts... When will you realize that love is nothing but a scam?"_

_Donivan gritted his teeth together._

_The desert King stared at him calmly, eyes dark and narrowed. "I can see into your heart well enough. You came for her, didn't you? The woman you loved?"_

_"I don't love her."_

_"Ah, yes, Caveia was her name..." the dying man grinned wickedly. "She came to me after she deemed you worthless you know, practically begging for a safe retreat from you and your piteous, moony eyes..."_

_"I'll kill you."_

_"Go ahead." The desert King's smile was challenging. "I will return. I always do."_

_His sword was a silver blur as they slit through the man's throat with a sickeningly wet sound. Golden eyes stared back at him balefully through a torrent of red ichor._

_"I will return... I always do..."_

**_._**

King Donivan jerked up from his bed, eyes flying open and mouth letting loose a gasp of horror.

His heart hammered against his chest and he placed a hand on it, breathing in raggedly. "Calm yourself," he whispered to the heavy air around him, looking out the open windows with a relieved glint in his eyes. "It was...all a dream."

_"I will return..."_

"It was just a dream."

_"I always do..."_

"Yes, that's it. Just a dream..."

* * *

Malon paused before the door, clutching the key ring tightly against the folds of her skirt. The scent that hung around the vicinity smelled of wild grass and warm sunshine...it made her nostalgic.

She took in a sharp gust of air as she fingered the right key in her pale fingers, running her thumb through its familiar edges. Uncertainty lodged in her heart like a bullet, making her breathless.

It was too late to turn back. Hesitating now would be useless.

She gathered her wits before inserting the key cautiously through the lock, turning it slow until a satisfying _click_ sounded when it fell into place. Heart trembling, she pushed the door open an inch, the creak that punctured the silence making her nerves jump about.

She stepped in the room.

The aroma that attacked her so suddenly nearly made her faint with longing. It smelled of hyacinths and earth, an overwhelming musk that she knew could only belong to _him._

_Link._

He was lying on his bed, breathing soundly. Dark lashes peeked through tufts of darkened gold and his face glowed with a moonlight-colored hue, looking surreal and faint. Her breath hitched in her throat painfully as she took another hesitant step forward.

His movements were too sudden and fluid for her to scramble back. He sat up, eyes shooting open - orbs of vivid azure through fringes of blond hair. His mouth opened slowly, each word slurred out like golden honey. "What are you doing here?"

"H-how..." she paused, freezing immediately.

"How did you enter my room?" the Prince's voice was carefully blank, but betrayed an underlying tone of accusation.

"I..." Feebly, she held up the keys.

He frowned, and for a moment she was afraid he would forcefully remove her from his sleeping quarters by calling in guards. "Explain yourself."

Something happened that very instant. Something inside her snapped in two and the words blurted off her tongue in the most ungraceful manner possible. "What did you do to me?"

The Prince blinked, obviously shocked. "Pardon?"

"I know you did something," she insisted, tightening her hands into fists. Color flooded out of her face and she watched him in wide-eyed silence as the blue of his eyes darkened. "I... I don't know what but..."

"But...?" His tone was inexorably soft, laced with the barest hint of amusement.

"But I need" - no, no, that wasn't the line she had practiced - "I... I mean I _want _it to stop."

"I'm afraid I don't understand." There was a recklessness in his words that caused another flush of anger to crawl up her neck.

"Yes, you do," she said, voice wavering with uncertainty. "And I'll tell him. I'll tell the King about it and...and..."

He blinked, lashes resting against his cheek. A sigh drifted from his lips and he smiled almost sleepily. "And?"

"And I'll... I'll tell Zelda."

The Prince's shoulders stiffened and he sat up, rolling his head calmly to the side to glance out the window. He murmured under his breath, "Beautiful night."

Malon blinked. "What?"

"I said," he cocked a brow at her in mild annoyance, "beautiful night, don't you think?"

"I..."

"Don't you think?"

"I suppose."

"What does it remind you of?" She almost lost herself in the smoothness of his voice.

"Home."

"The Ranch?" he asked, eyes wide and innocent. Well, nearly innocent.

"How did you know?" Despite herself, the awe she felt showed well in her voice and she cringed at it.

"I asked," he smiled ruefully, tilting his head to the side in a fashion that sent her heart skipping away in fast, giddy paces. "About you."

"Um," she stuttered, color flying into from her cheeks. "I..."

"Will you really tell her?" he asked, voice soft yet carrying strong. He stood languidly, stretching his arms easily over his head as if he were waking to a brand new morning. "She'll make me leave."

"I..."

"Do you really want me to leave?" Heat crawled up her neck and she found herself at a startling loss for words at the blunt question. He smirked. "You don't, do you?"

She felt alarmingly numb, but she shook her head almost automatically.

He laughed. "Come here, please. Let's put an end to all this unwanted pain you're feeling."

Her muscles were taut and her limbs rigid. But something washed over her like a tidal wave of freedom and the scent of hyacinths sent her walking without so much as a squeak of protest. Vaguely, a small voice in the back of her mind screamed that there was something terribly wrong and that she ought to just turn around and _run. _The very last thing she could remember was falling into his arms like a broken doll.

_She could hear that part._

_She supposed... she just never really wanted to listen all along..._

**_._**

"How?" he took her limp form carefully into his arms. Red hair spilled behind her like a wild halo of tasseled rubies. Her skin was still slightly warm, but as he placed his fingers into the point of her chest and felt her pulse start to drift away, the cold tinge arrived soon. Her breathing was shallow and short.

"How did you do it?" he pressed her, glaring at her shut eyes and serene expression.

People were weaker. He knew this. They fell into his magic like a slab of lead - ignorant and hard-headed. But Malon hadn't. She fought. Fought like nothing else he had ever seen.

"How?" he hissed as her heartbeat faded to nothing and the last of her restraints were thrown to the wind. "How did you find the strength?"

Her lips moved to their own accord, startling him.

"I'm sorry..."

He felt her will bend to his own, her soul cower and tremble in his presence.

"I'll follow you..."

He was torn between awe and victory. Was she... volunteering herself to him?

"I'll give it to you..."

"What?"

"My heart..." her lips closed, but the unsaid words lingered in the air.

"I'll give it to you... if you want it."

But Link had always known that want and need were two very different things.

Perhaps, he wouldn't have to control her like some mindless puppet. She was a slave to her own dreams and emotions, he'd control those instead.

And only then, would he have ever truly taken her heart.

* * *

She had to even out their battlefield, give herself the equal leverage he had been hovering around on her head this whole time.

She had to wear..._it._

'It' being the manifestation of her disgust and revulsion at the frivolous and tacky tastes the women of the upper hierarchy flaunted around her kingdom. 'It' being the prime suspect of her secret self-loathing. 'It' being the scandalous rose-colored gown that lay out before her bed like an unholy article of clothing sent to her from the deepest pits of hell.

Zelda hated it.

So what was she doing now - putting it on as if it were the most natural thing in the world?

It was simple to explain, really.

While being the bane of her fashion standards, the gown itself was devastatingly striking, especially if worn with just the right figure. The scalloped edges were not overdone, they were simple yet refined. The lace patterns that twined around her upper torso were tasteful and eye-catching. With curves set in the right place, the velvet linings were like second skin. A slit rang along the side of the skirt, stopping just below the knees - something which would look modest on any other dress, but enhanced the quality of the one she wore.

The princess looked at the mirror, satisfied.

Maybe this would finally give her the upper-hand she so desperately needed. If she played her cards right, Link - unfairly handsome prince of Altea - would fall into her hands in no time.

* * *

**AN: Almost there... **

**Halfway there, anyway.**

**For all my previous readers of this fic: thank you for being patient. I hope you find this version more detailed and entertaining than my last. :)**


	8. Chapter 8

_From the Desk of HVM,_

**_[9-16-11]_**

Hooray! Finally got down to Chapter 8! For the sake of keeping some traits I liked from the previous version of Fatal Attraction, I jotted down some wry humor for Link and Zelda. I hoped I pinned them down right. :)

Tell me in your review!

**(Re-edited)**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda. I think me taking control of such an esteemed name in the videogame company would pretty much be a disaster of epic proportions.**

* * *

**8**

_Unfair._

The one word Link could find to accurately describe the current situation he found himself in.

Malon had been asleep after his magic finally took its complete toll on her, the delirious mumblings that fell from her lips like whispers of wind muted and soft. Her pulse had returned, a sleepy pace that reassured his frantic nerves, soothing his worries of her breaking out from under the trance spell he had meticulously stitched into her heart.

He had lugged his sleepy self down the hallway, carrying her into his arms and keeping as quite as possible. The guards that normally patrolled the hallways had already been dismissed and the shadows of the night covered his tracks well.

Considering the fact that he actually hadn't the slightest clue about where Malon usually slept - and he couldn't exactly just ask anyone, not without suspicions arising anyway - he decided, after rounding the eastern perimeter of the castle, to just leave her by the foot of his door.

In case she had any lingering memories about coming to his bedroom, she'd simply think she had lost the nerve and succumbed to sleep out of pure exhaustion.

But that wasn't what was unfair.

No. Not in the least.

It was that be-damned beautiful princess and her evil,_ evil_ ways.

**.**

He hadn't managed to get himself a good night's sleep, which - considering the precarious state of affairs he had found himself stuck in and his acclaimed tangible confidence - said plenty. Malon was no longer at his door. He assumed she had already dashed off in embarrassment and confusion, just as he planned.

There were bags under his eyes. A flaw most disconcerting and, he found, not at all pleasant. His eyes had lost their luster and his hair stubbornly refused to tone down their messy spikes. Oh, and he was also pale. Paler than usual.

Too pale.

Oh gods, his pale was terrible. A sickly pallor that drained any healthy tan flush from his cheeks, leaving behind a ghostly hue that did not appeal to him in the least.

He looked like the walking ghost of a dull-eyed man who died from lack of sleep.

And it was just so unfair!

It was unfair that while he was stumbling down the staircases like a bleary-eyed drunkard, muttering foul obscenities under his breath, that she had appeared like a stolen ray of golden sunshine.

He had been surprised.

A lot more than he wanted to admit or even acknowldege.

Because he knew she was beautiful, just not... like this.

In a way that almost, _almost_ left him breathless because the sight of her staring up at him from the bottom of the last flight of stairs had been so sudden and inexplicably dazzling, leaving him with the unfamiliar feeling of staring at something he - suddenly - wanted for no reason, yet was unobtainable beyond belief.

He didn't like that feeling.

The dawning realization that maybe, just maybe, someone in this world could and would never be his completely, while everyone else that he never really wanted just fell into his hands.

He _hated_ it.

But, with the flick of a finger it seemed, the feeling disappeared.

"My father sent me up to wake you," she said, a quiet smugness in her eyes.

"Oh," he said back in reply, a somberness in his tone.

Zelda raised a brow in question.

He almost blushed.

His voice was raw and throaty from sleep, the rumbling in his chest still lingering there. He licked his chapped lips and coughed.

From the corner of his eyes, through a fringe of blond hair, he saw her lips tilt. A smirk.

She was smirking. And she looked good doing it too - all dressed up in a gown of rosy velvet and silk with her curled ringlets of hair brushing past her collar and tickling her cheeks.

His hand twitched involuntarily.

_She planned for this, _he hissed in his head._ She wore that dress just to mock me. Irritate me. Seduce me, maybe?_

_It's working, isn't it?_ a small part in the back of his mind groaned.

_I... I don't know._

"Would you like to come down for breakfast?"

"Yes," he nodded, not wanting to look any more foolish than he already had.

She smiled, a twitch of the mouth, too fleeting to ever really hold any meaning beyond propriety.

He twitched back a smile and narrowed his eyes at her. "You look awfully dressy today, Princess."

"Is there any reason why I shouldn't?"

"Ah," he smiled and shrugged. "I suppose not. Though I do feel rather shabby with my own attire."

He had thrown on the first thing he could get his hands on from the closet, too tired to even care.

She eyed him skeptically and her brows were drawn down suddenly. Eyes dark and voice soft, she said, "You look fine."

A beat of silence followed.

"You should come," she cleared her throat abruptly, spinning on her heels to walk back down. "You've kept us all waiting."

Link grinned.

"Not too long I hope."

* * *

Zelda could tell her father was pleased when Link and her entered through the arching doorways to the dining room. She could hardly tell what King Donivan felt - his posture was lacking its usual stiffness and his eyes were heavy and half-closed.

She was feeling quite pleased herself. One would have to be oblivious to not see the glint in her eyes.

Link made a choked noise in the back of his throat, turning to the side to glance at a mirror suspended on one of the walls, and Zelda smiled to see his apparent horror when he glared balefully at his reflection.

He ran fingers through tangles of blond spikes and grunted, mussing it over with the palm of his hand. "I overslept too much."

"Is it obvious?" Zelda dimpled.

He glared at her.

Displaying a small amount of impatience, King Harkinian gestured questioningly to the empty chairs held out for them by the fidgeting maids. "Are you two going to eat anytime soon?"

"Of course, Highness," Link smiled amiably, his weariness fading. "Apologies."

The maid's finger twitched when he passed by, thanking her absently and sending her on her way with a nod. She hurried back to her spot, blushing red and grinning widely - though she tried to hide it by dipping her head low when she bowed to them.

Link fingered his silverware idly, obviously unfazed at the heaping plate of expensive food laid out before him.

King Harkinian grinned at the young man. "It looks like you've got quite an effect on the maids here, good prince."

Link's eyes shot open wide. "Hm?"

Zelda wasn't sure whether to smile or scowl at his confusion.

"Oh," Link said, his lips curling beatifically. "Do I? I hadn't noticed. Perhaps I've been paying too much attention to your daughter."

"By the looks of it, she's been doing the same to you," King Harkinian remarked lightly. He turned to his daughter. "Is that a new dress, dear?"

The princess looked slightly miffed, and her brows were set into a frown.

"Yes," Link echoed smugly. "Is it?"

"No." Zelda glared at her food, stubbornly refusing to clarify. "Maybe you should tell Prince Avignon about the trip you've planned for us, Father."

"Ah, yes." King Harkinian clasped his hands together, a jolly smile on his face. "I've planned a carriage tour for us around all of Castleton today."

"That sounds lovely," Marth replied back, anxious to please the Hylian as always.

"Yes, yes, it does," King Donivan shot Link an expecting glare and the blond prince smiled back diligently.

"Nothing like some fresh city air to wake me up."

**.**

He had opted for better - more royal-worthy - clothing, and the sight made her seethe because when he stepped into her carriage he had armed himself with the same boldness and daring she had. And he looked good with it too.

She tried not to fidget, tried not to scowl (though it was nearly impossible with him smirking at her like that).

It was a blustery morning, with fierce gale whipping across the city like rough fingers of air dragging through soil. She had noticed that King Donivan seemed more than mildly disappointed and perturbed at the weather, though she could hardly be surprised seeing as how he always gave the impression of a man far too hard to please for his own good.

Yet all this could hardly distract her from the blond who sat across, arms crossed and eyes resolutely blue.

"Smart," he said, a smile slipping across his lips. "Wearing that dress and all. Very smart of you."

She smiled, not even bother to deny it.

"You must like me an awful lot," he remarked, a teasing light dancing in the blue of his eyes.

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Really, I'm glad you're trying. Upping the challenge just sweetens the reward."

"We haven't even left the castle gates yet and I'm already sick of you." A puff of wind seeped in through the draping curtains, cooling the flush of her cheeks.

"My, my," Link grinned brightly, tousling his damp locks in an infuriatingly endearing manner that made her want to strangle him. His fingers teased out a strip of golden hair that hung over his dark brows, mocking her unconsciously as her thoughts shifted to traitorous grounds.

_I wonder if it feels soft..._

No.

She shook her head slightly. It had probably been an aftermath of his little spell on her.

Probably.

The carriage rumbled quietly as they passed through the bridge that led to the arching and gapingly open doorways in front - leading to the road that would shift them through the perimeters of Castleton without causing too much of a commotion through the thick, bustling crowd that always filled the streets.

The air smelled of life, fresh bread, and the early citrus aroma that had accompanied the early mornings of their capital town. The people scattered about as the horses led them through the streets, patrolling guards meticulously stationed by the central fountain that stood before the road from the palace yelling at passing city folk to make way.

But this did little to draw away her attention from the unfairly handsome man seated before her and how utterly dark and curiously iridescent his eyes seemed, especially when light played over them, speckling flecks of gold onto pools of somber azure. It made him seem strangely softer, less sharp and intimidating.

She like it better when his eyes were that way. It made her feel as if she had a fighting chance.

But then, as if reading her thoughts, he dipped his head and shadows curled into his irises, drowning her hope into the vast cerulean murkiness that smoldered the vibrant strokes of brightness with heavy splashes of blue on blue. He glanced at her - giving a look so unnervingly intense and deep that it could only mean one thing.

The fight was just beginning. And he had every intention of winning it.

She quickly turned her head away.

This would be a _long_ carriage ride.


	9. Chapter 9

**(Re-edited)**

* * *

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Legend of Zelda.**

* * *

**9**

She tried to distract herself.

She played with her gloves. She curled her hair. She had a staring contest with the floor (she lost).

Out of the corner of her eyes she could see his smirk - subtle and refined - and the annoying twinkle caught within the dark blue depths of his gaze.

She traced patterns absently on the fine fabric of her dress.

He stretched, arms swinging high and the muscles along his sleeves going along with the movement softly.

She coughed, her throat feeling impeccably dry.

He sighed and mussed his hair with long fingers. "I dressed up all nice for you, and you don't even spare a look my way?" He feigned a hurt look. "That's not very nice, Princess."

Zelda glared at him stonily before shifting her eyes back to the floor. "Know your place, prince."

"Oh, I do. Right by your side, hand-in-hand, isn't that right, darling?"

She briefly entertained the thought - as silly as it seemed - of her fingers (currently hooking around her thumb and back to pat at a non-existent wrinkle on her dress) twined together with his as matching grins wove around their faces with all the glow of first love; but the image shuddered and dissolved before ever forming.

She could never fall in love with him. And the fact gave her temporary respite until her mind voiced what her heart couldn't:

_What if he makes you?_

She looked at him for a quick moment and watched furtively, catching glimpses of wayward golden strands filter between dark lashes and glowing blue eyes with just the faintest ring of light sighing around the edges and decided that nothing frightened her more than the prospect of being filled with such adoration to always have his steady gaze trained on her.

Something which it already was.

"See something you like?" he asked, raising a curious brow her way. "I know I do."

"Yes," she said. "The paleness of your skin today is really quite exquisite. Just the right shade of a decaying corpse and brittle, white powder."

He scowled.

"Sarcasm is the last refuge of the imaginatively bankrupt."

"I make up for what I lack in common smarts," she retorted.

"If you were smart you would have kissed me by now," Link said, stating that fact as if it were very obvious. "I usually don't wait for women, you know."

"Oh, and I usually don't wait for men," Zelda mocked dryly.

"Who says you have to wait?"

"You're not exactly showering me with praise right now, are you?"

"Would you like me to?" he offered swiftly, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I'd really prefer for my food to stay inside my stomach." Zelda smirked. "Boo hoo for the both of us, I guess."

He grinned. "Touche, my Amazon queen. Touche."

**.**

"Oh, but his eyes, are they not marvelous?"

A torrent of voices, all ranging from young to old, spurred within the lower chambers that held the castle maids. Some bright-eyed girls seated on the floor scribbled about on paper with giggles escaping their lips.

Bertha, a plump and hearty woman with a jaunty laugh towered over them, her voice laced with good humor and just the barest tinge of a courtly accent. "And what are you little misses up to, eh?"

The girls stopped, glancing at each other with conspiratorial looks and hushed smiles before giggling as one. "Writing stories, Bertha," they chorused back diligently.

"Eh?" Bertha raised a brow. "What kind?"

"Stories of the new prince, of course!" A young red-haired girl barely at the peak of her thirteenth year stared at the older woman as if she was silly for asking such a question. "What else could we have to write about in this drab castle?"

"New prince, hm." Bertha nodded grudgingly. "Real easy on the eyes, that one is."

"We're calling it 'fanfiction'," another girl declared smartly. "Because we're his fans and the stories we write - though we wish it weren't so - are fiction." She stopped, thoughtful. "Although, we're also considering 'fictions of fans who like to write', but it's not nearly as catchy."

"I'm glad you explained that, Dorothy," a taller young woman said back dryly. "I would have given myself a headache trying to figure it out for myself."

Dorothy stuck out her tongue.

Bertha laughed, ruffling Dorothy's messy braids fondly. "Give her a break, Lacy. Little girls are allowed to dream, aren't they?"

"I suppose. As long as they keep away from my stuff."

Dorothy smirked. "Why? You keep stories of your own in that secret cupboard of yours too, don't you?"

"Why, I oughta-"

All conversations came to a halt as a faint desert musk seeped into the air, crowds of women parting to reveal Nabooru - a notoriously beautiful scullery maid that Bertha often associated with, claiming that if she hovered around long enough, the desert woman's beauty might also spread to her.

Lacy straightened, smiling beatifically at her. "Hello Nabooru."

"Lacy." Nabooru nodded, a slow smirk curling her lips. "What's all this hubbub about?"

Silence remained for a few moments. Nabooru often had that effect - walking into a room with no hint of hesitance in her stride as voices faltered in her wake, either struck dumb by the flawlessness of her physical...assets, or just speechless at the self-possesion in her gait, something that had not wavered despite the fact that she was the lowest-ranking of them all.

"Oh, just the new prince." Lacy blushed uncomfortably and Dorothy stuck out her tongue again.

"Really?" Nabooru shot them all a slow, dragging smile. "I hear he's quite handsome."

"Oh, he is." Dorothy nodded in eager agreement. "We're writing stories about him, Nabbie! See!"

Proudly, the young girl thrust out her paper to Nabooru, a grin stretched across her face. "Read it!"

Frowning just a little, Nabooru's eyes flitted through each word, amuseement glinting in the deep gold of her eyes. "Oh, dearie," she murmured, stroking Dorothy's hair in an almost melancholic manner. "This is a romance story, isn't it?"

"Well, yeah," Dorothy said, confusion apparent in her voice. "I kinda thought the hearts I scribbled around everything gave it away. Wassa matter, Nabbie? Did I misspell something?"

"No, no." Nabooru shook her head. "Oh, but this last line... the one about the princess running away to be with him?"

"Yeah."

"That's not happening anytime sweetie."

"What...do you mean?" the young girl asked, struck dumb at the very thought.

"The most running that poor princess will do, will be running away from him."

**.**

The Temple of Time - the first stop of their prestigious carriage tour - itself was grand - if a bit dilapidated - with its arching spires of marble and worn, faded silver linings snaking along the silent fountain installed by the entrance. The trees were gnarled and ancient-looking, their roots surfacing from rough soil to twist around fields of grass and tangled petals.

"Ah," Donivan murmured low, tilting his head to the side. "It's got a bit of...age to it, eh?"

"Very much like us, I suppose," Daphnes remarked kindly.

Zelda stepped down from the carriage, brushing past the arm offered courteously to her by the escorting guard with a firm smile. "It was said to have been built after the Great Cataclysm, somewhere around a thousand years ago."

"So it's got a LOT of age to it, then."

The princess held back a scowl as Link came out, scuffing the heels of his boots on the ground carelessly. King Donivan grimaced.

"Those are expensive, Link."

The prince shot his father a mildly surprised look. "...And?"

King Donivan sighed, his features contorted with a weary kind of helplessness. "Never mind."

"I've heard that a royal priest maintains it. Is that much true?" Marth bit down on his lip, casting the princess a subtle glance from the corner of his eyes.

"I believe a priestess was the one charged to care for this temple," Zelda said, and after a hesitant pause, added, "I don't visit often."

Daphnes nodded solemnly. "Though you really ought to, Zelda, if you're serious about your intentions."

"Father..." she trailed off, her eyes dulling at his words and the tension in her voice ringing clear. "You know I'm not exactly taken by the idea of becoming a priestess."

"Ah, yes. But you a_re _taken by the idea of not having to marry."

"You can't just automatically assume I'd swear myself off to a convent either. Which I have intention of doing, as a side note."

"I have to agree, your Highness," Link chimed in smoothly with a bright grin. "After all, is it really fair to steal away my only chance at winning your lovely daughter's heart?"

Zelda recoiled, huffing in frustration and crossing her arms. Link grinned back and Daphnes let out a booming laugh as he patted his _(hopefully) _future-son-in-law's shoulder.

"No. No, I suppose not." He clapped his hands together, beaming. "Now let's go meet the priest, shall we?"

**.**

To say that Lucas admired his brother was a gross underestimation.

He idolized him. Worshipped him.

But there were times when, just like any other younger sibling, he thought that Darell was just a little bit..._off._

_Off his rocker...that's what they say, right?_

His brother had always been prideful about their thieving roots, taking it upon himself to lead his brother into the most wildest of raids - ranging from infiltrating the castle vaults in Atlea (in vain) to stealing livestock from the esteemed Romani Ranch in Termina (which also ended in a painful failure).

Yet despite this, Darell kept his chin up, facing each impending jail sentence with a satisfied sneer and an easy swagger as they marched to their cells.

So it was easy to see why Lucas admired him so.

He would follow his brother into the pits of hell if asked, but..._this_ was pushing things too far.

Because he was sure that he'd rather take his chances stealing those happily fattened cows again from Romani Ranch, despite the painful,_ painful_ consequences they would face (he still had that nasty mark on his rear end from the pitchfork) - than kidnap the Princess of Hyrule - an act which required a set of the thickest of heads, a dangerously high amount of sheer stupidity, and luck.

And he was quite sure that out of all those things, they were definitely lacking the latter the most.

"Brother," Darrel said, calling his attention. "You're looking awfully pensive."

"I..." _How to break it to him? _"It's just that..."

"Yes, Lucas?" Darell prompted, raising a daring brow.

"I...I don't think this is a good idea." Lucas swallowed. "At all."

Darell grinned, a spark lighting off in his dark eyes. Lucas frowned as he noticed, yet again, the faint ring of purple lining his brother's irises, wondering if it was worthy of his concern. He had noticed it only a few days ago, but it hadn't really bothered him much. Rather, he thought the purple ring was really quite flattering and fitting for his brother.

_Wish I had one..._

"Relax, Lucas. The worst thing they could do is send us to the slammer again..."

"Or threaten to chop off our heads," Lucas piped in helpfully.

"I told you about our employer right?" Darell prodded, crossing his huge arms over his heaving barrel chest. "About how much money he offered?"

_Five-hundred, fifty-thousand rupees. _It _was _a rather hefty reward, Lucas had to admit. Only because their past "jobs" had consisted of a series of petty thefts and kidnappings, one of which consisted of them "stealing" a fairy and holding it hostage in a bottle to give it to a thirty-something-years old man who apparently had a disturbing affinity with them ever since his childhood. Their payment was a useless map of Termina and a handful of green rupees which, shamefully enough, was one of the biggest payments they had ever gotten in the past five years.

"Well, yes, but don't you think we should take a job that's actually...er, you know, within our league?"

Darell grinned broadly, the purple of his eyes swelling like a bruise. "What's the fun in that?"

* * *

**_Author's Note:_**

The past weeks have been crazy. I ditched my old router for a new one, bought **_Skyward Sword_**, and stayed up many nights playing it (and I'm _s__till _not done). Throw in some projects, absurd math tests, and a _craaazy _Christmas party and you've got yourself a very, very tired author prone to extreme fits of procrastination.

This chapter is long overdue. I'll speed through everything to catch up where I left off. Sorry for the re-editing process. :P

Oh, it's probably too late to wish you a Happy New Year, but I can't resist. HAPPY NEW YEAR! :D

-HVM


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